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BAB 



BALLADS 



BY 
W. S. 

GILBERT 



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(hiss 



FRESENTl-:!) BY 



The "Bab" Ballads 



MUCH SOUND AND LITTLE SENSE 

%u<. W/S.' GILBERT 




COMPLETE EDITION IN ONE VOLUME 
INCLUDING THE " BAB BALLADS " AND " MORE BAB BALLADS 

IF/TI/ 215 ILLUSTRA TIONS BY THE A UTHOR 



PHILADELPHIA: 
DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER, 

1022 Market Stbeet. 









<5 



PREFACE. 



* l " ^HE "Bab Ballads" appeared originally in the columns 
-*" of *'FUN," when that periodical was under the editor- 
ship of the late Tom Hood. They were subsequently repub- 
lished in two volumes, one called " The Bab Ballads," the 
other "More Bab Ballads." The period during which they 
were written extended over some three or four years; many, 
however, were composed hastily, and under the discomforting 
necessity of having to turn out a quantity of lively verse by a 
certain day in every week. As it seemed to me (and to others) 
that the volumes were disfigured by the presence of these hastily- 
written impostors, I thought it better to withdraw from both 
volumes such Ballads as seemed to show evidence of careless- 
ness or undue haste, and to publish the remainder in the com- 
pact form under which they are now presented to the reader. 

It may interest some to know that the first of the series, 
"The Yam of the Nancy Bell," was originally offered to 
"Punch,"— to which I was, at that time, an occasional con- 
tributor. It was, however, declined by the then Editor, on the 
ground that it was "too cannibalistic for his readers* tastes." 

W. S. GILBERT. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Captain Rkeck 9 

The Rival Curates 14 

Only a Dancing-Girl 19 

General John 21 

To A Little Maid 24 

John and Freddy 25 

Sir Guy the Crusader 28 

Haunted 31 

The Bishop and the Busman 33 

The Troubadour 37 

Ferdinando and Elvira ; or, The Gentle Pieman. 41 

Lorenzo de Lardy 45 

Disillusioned 49 

Babette's Love 51 

To My Bride 54 

The Folly op Brown 56 

Sir Macklin 60 

The Yarn op the ' ' Nancy Bell." 63 

The Bishop op Rum-Ti-Foo 66 

The Precocious Baby 70 

To Phcebe 74 

Baines Carew, Gentleman 75 

Thomas Winterbottom Hance 79 

The Reverend Micah Sowls 83 

A Discontented Sugar- Broker 87 

The Pantomime "Super" to his Mask 92 

The Force op Argument 94 

The Ghost, the Gallant, the Gael, and the 

Goblin 98 

The Phantom Curate 103 

The Sensation Captain . ]05 

Tempora Mutantur 109 

At a Pantomime HI 

King BoRRiA BuNGALEE Boo 114 

The Periwinkle Girl 118 

Thomson Green and Harriet Hale 12] 

Bob Polter 124 

The Story op Prince Agib 128 

Ellen Mc Jones Aberdeen. . , . , 133 



viii CONTENTS. 

PA6B 

Petbb the Wag 136 

Thb Three Kings op Chickeraboo 140 

Job Golightlt 144 

To THB Terrestrial Globe 149 

Gentlb Alice Bbown . 150 

MiBTEB William 155 

Ben Allah Achmet ; or, The Fatal Tum 160 

The Bumboat Woman's Stort 163 

The Two Ogres 169 

Littlb Oliver 173 

Pasha Bailet Ben 178 

Lieutenant-Colonel Flare 183 

Lost Mr. Blake 187 

The Baby's Vengeance 192 

The Captain and the Mermaids 196 

Anhib Protherob 200 

Gregory Parable, LL.D 206 

An Unfortunate Likeness 210 

The King op Canoodle-Dum 214 

First Love 219 

Brave Alum Bey 224 

Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo 228 

The Modest Couple 232 

The Martinet 237 

The Reverend Simon Magus 241 

Damon V). Pythias 245 

The Sailor Boy to his Lass 248 

My Dream 253 

The Bishop op Rum-Ti-Foo, again 257 

The Haughty Actor 261 

The Two Majors 266 

A Worm Will Turn 270 

Emily, John, James, and 1 274 

The Perils of Invisibility 278 

Old Paul and Old Tim 282 

The Cunning Woman 285 

Phrenology 289 

The Mystic Salvagee 293 

Thb Fairy Curate 297 

HONGRBE AND MaHRY 302 

Thb Way op Wooeno 307 



The ''Bab'' Ballads. 




CAPTAIIS EEECE. 

Of all the ships upon the blue, 
No ship contained a better crew 
Than that of worthy Captain Reece, 
Commanding of The Mantelpiece. 

He was adored bv all his men, 
For worthy Captain Reece, R.N., 
Did all that lay within him to 
Promote the comfort of his crew. 



10 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

If ever they were dull or sad, 
Their captain danced to them like mad, 
Or told, to make the time pass by, 
Droll legends of his infancy. 

A feather bed had every man. 
Warm slippers and hot- water can, 
Brown Windsor from the captain's store, 
A valet, too, to every four. 

Did they with thirst in summer burn ? 
Lo, seltzogenes at every turn, 
And on all very sultry days 
Cream ices handed round on trays. 

Then currant wine and ginger pops 
Stood handily on all the "tops ;" 
And, also, with amusement rife, 
A " Zoetrope, or Wheel of Life." 

Mew volumes came across the sea 
From Mister Mudie's libraree ; 
The Times and Saturday Review 
Beguiled the leisure of the crew. 

Kind-hearted Captain Eeece, R.N., 
Was quite devoted to his men ; 
In point of fact, good Captain Eeece 
Beatified The Mantelpiece. 

One summer eve, at half-past ten, 
He said (addressing all his men) : 
*' Come, tell me, please, what I can do 
To please and gratify my crew. 

** By any reasonable plan 
I '11 make you happy if I can ; 
My own convenience count as nil : 
It is my duty, and I Mill." 

Then up and answered William Lee 
(The kindly captain's coxswain he, 
A nervous, shy, low-spoken man), 
He cleared his throat and thus began : 



CAPTAIN REECE. 

* You have a daughter, Captain Keece, 
Ten female cousins and a niece, 
A Ma, if what I 'm told is true, 
Six sisters, and an aunt or two. 



II 




** Now, somehow, sir, it seems to me, 
More friendly-like we all should be 
If you united of 'em to 
Unmarried members of the crew. 

" If you 'd ameliorate our life, 
Let each select from them a wife ; 
And as for nervous me, old pal, 
Give me your own enchanting gal ! 

Good Captain Eeece, that worthy maiij 
Debated on his coxswain's plan : 
" I quite agree," he said, " Bill ; 
It is my duty, and I will. 

** My daughter, that enchanting gurl, 
Has just been promised to an Earl; 
And all my other familee 
To peers of various degree. 



12 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



" But what are dukes and viscounts to 
The happiness of all my crew ? 
The word I gave you I '11 fulfil ; 
It is my duty, and I will. 

" As you desire it shall befall, 
I '11 settle thousands on you all, 
And 1 shall be, despite my hoard, 
The only bachelor on board." 




The boatswain of The Mantelfiece, 

He blushed and spoke to Captain Reece 

" I beg your honour's leave," he said ; 

" If you would wish to go and wed, 

" I have a widowed mother who 
Would be the very thing for you — 
She long has loved you from afar : 
She washes for you, Captain R." 

The captain saw the dame that day — 
Addressed her in his playful way — 
** And did it want a wedding ring ? 
It was a tempting ickle sing 1 



. CAPTAIN REECE, 13 

** Well, well, the chaplain I will seek, 
We '11 all be married this day week 
At yonder church upon the hill ; 
It is my duty, and I will ! " 

The sisters, cousins, aunts, and niece, 
And widowed Ma of Captain Eeece 
Attended there as they were bid ; 
It was their duty, and they did. 



<^^«^&^ 



^**«5% 



THE KIVAL CUEATES. 

List while the poet trolls 

Of Mr. Clayton Hooper, 
Who had a cure of souls 

At Spiffton-extra-Sooper. 

He lived on curds and whey, 
And daily sang their praises, 

And then he 'd go and play 
With buttercups and daisies. 

Wild croquet Hooper banned, 
And all the sports of Mammon^ 

He warred with cribbage, and 
He exorcised backgammon. 

His helmet M^as a glance 

That spoke of holy gladness ; 

A saintly smile his lance ; 
His shield a tear of sadness. 

His Vicar smiled to see 

This armour on him buckled : 
With pardonable glee 

He blessed himself and chuckled 



THE RIVAL CURATES. 15 

** In mildness to abound 

My curate's sole design is ; 
In all the country round 
There 's none so mild as mine is t " 

And Hooper, disinclined 

His trumpet to be blowing, 
Yet didn't think you 'd find 

A milder curate going. 




A friend arrived one day 
At Spiffton-extra-Sooper, 

And in this shameful way 
He spoke to Mr. Hooper : 

" You think your famous name 
For mildness can't be shaken, 
That none can blot your fame — 
But, Hooper, you 're mistaken ! 

" Your mind is not as blank 
As that of Hopley Porter, 
Who holds a curate's rank 
At Assesmilk-cum-Worter. 



i6 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

" He plays the airy flute, 

And looks depressed and blighted, 
Doves round about him ' toot,' 
And lambkins dance delighted. 




*^Ile labours more than you 

At worsted work, and frames it ; 
In old maids' albums, too, 

Sticks seaweed — yes, and names it 1 '' 

The tempter said his say. 

Which pierced him like a needle- 
He summoned straight away 

His sexton and his beadle. 

(These men were men who could 

Hold liberal opinions : 
On Sundays they were good — 

On week-days they were minions.) 

** To Hopley Porter go, 

Your fare I will afford you— 
Deal him a deadly blow. 

And blessings shall reward yoiL 

•* But stay — I do not like 
Undue assassination. 
And so before you strike. 
Make this communication : 



THE RIVAL CURATES, 17 




I 'II give him this one chance — 
If he '11 more gaily bear him, 

Play croquet, smoke, and dancCj 
1 willingly will spare him." 

They went, those minions true, 
To Assesmilk-cum-Worter, 

And told their errand to 
The Reverend Hopley Porter. 

•* What ? " said that reverend gent, 
" Dance through my hours of leasure ? 
Smoke ? — bathe myself with scent ? — 
Play croquet ? Oh, with pleasure ! 

" Wear all my hair in curl ? 

Stand at my door and wink — so — 
At every passing girl ? 

My brothers, I should think so ! 

•* For years I 've longed for some 
Excuse for this revulsion : 
Now that excuse has come — 
I do it on compulsion ! ! ! " 



i8 



THE ''BAB ■• BALLADS. 




He smoked and winked away — 
This Reverend Hopley Porter- 

The deuce there was to pay 
At Assesmilk-cum-Worter. 

And Hooper holds his ground, 
In mildness daily growing— > 

They tliink him, all around, 
The mildest curate going. 



ONLY A DANCINa GIRL. 

Only a dancing girl, 

With an unromantic style, 

Witli borrowed colour and curl, 
With fixed mechanical smile. 
With many a hackneyed wile. 

With ungrammatical lips, 

And corns that mar her trips. 




Hung from the " flies " in air, 

She acts a palpable lie, 
She 's as little a fairy there 



30 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

As nnpoetical I ! 

I hear you asking, Why — 
Why in the world J sing 
This tawdry, tinselled thing ? 

No airy fairy she. 

As she hangs in arsenic green 
From a highly impossible tree 

In a highly impossible scene 

(Herself not over-clean). 
For fays don't Guffer, I 'm told, 
From bunions, coughs, or cold. 

And stately dames that bring 
Their daughters there to see. 

Pronounce the " dancing thing " 
No better than she should be, 
With her skirt at her shameful ]j:nee 

And her painted, tainted phiz : 

Ah, matron, which of us is ? 

(And, in sooth, it oft occurs 
That while these matrons sigh, 

Their dresses are lower than hers, 
And sometimes half as high ; 
And their hair is hair they buy, 

And they use their glasses, too, 

In a way she 'd blush to do.) 

But change her gold and green 
For a coarse merino gown, 

And see her upon the scene 

Of her home, when coaxing down 
Her drunken father's frown, 

In his squalid cheerless den : 

She 's a fairy truly, then ! 



GENERAL JOHN. 




The bravest names for fire and flames, 

And all that mortal durst, 
Were General John and Private James, 

Of the Sixty-seventy-first. 

General John was a soldier tried, 

A chief of warlike dons ; 
A haughty stride and a withering pride 

Were Major-General John's. 



THE '^ BAB'' BALLADS. 

A sneer would play on his martial phiz, 
Superior birth to show ; . 
•* Pish ! " was a favourite word of his, 
And he often said " Ho ! ho ! " 

Full- Private James described might be 

As a man of a mournful mind ; 
No characteristic trait had he 

Of any distinctive kind. 

From the ranks, one day, cried Private James, 
" Oh ! Major-General John, 
J 've doubts of our respective names. 
My mournful mind upon. 

" A glimmering thought occurs to me 
(Its source I can't unearth), 
But I 've a kind of notion we 
Were cruelly changed at birth. 

" I 've a strange idea, each other's names 
That we have each got on. 
Such things have been," said Private James. 
" They have ! " sneered General John. 

" My General John, I swear upon 

My oath I think 't is so " 

" Pish ! " proudly sneered his General John, 

And he also said " Ho ! ho ! " 




GENERAL JOHN. 

" My General John ! my General Jolin ! 

My General John ! " quoth he, 
" This aristocratical sneer upon 

Your face I blush to see ! 

*• No truly great or generous cove 
Deserving of them names, 
Would sneer at a fixed idea that 's drove 
In the mind of a Private James ! " 

Said General John, " Upon your claims 
ISo need your breath to waste ; 

If this is a joke, Fall- Private James, 
It's a joke of doubtful taste. 

"But, being a man of doubtless worth, 
If you feel certain quite 
That we were probably changed at birth 
I '11 venture to say you 're right." 



23 




So General John as Private James 

Fell in, parade upon ; 
And Private James, by change of names, 

Was Major- General John. 



TO A LITTLE MAID. 

By a Policeman. 

Come with me, little maid, 
Nay, shrink not, thus afraid — 

I '11 harm thee not ! 
Fly not, my love, from me — 
I have a home for thee — 
A fairy grot, 

"Where mortal eye 
Can rarely pry, 
There shall thy dwelling be ! 

List to me, while I tell 
The pleasures of that cell, 

Oh. little maid ! 
What tliough its couch be rude, 
Homely the only food 
Within its shade ? 

No thought of care 
Can enter there, 
No vulgar swain intrude ! 

Come with me, little maid, 
Come to the rocky shade 

I love to sing ; 
Live with us, maiden rare — 
Come, for we "• want " thee there. 
Thou elfin thing. 

To work thy spell, 
In some cool cell 
In statelv Pentonville ! 



JOHN AND EREDDT. 

John courted lovely Mary Ann, 
So likewise did his brother Freddy. 

Fred was a very soft young man, 
While John, though quick, was Jnost unsteady 

Foung Fred had grace all men above, 
But John was very much the strongest. 
"Oh, dance," said she " to win my love — 
1 11 marry him who dances longest." 

John tries the maiden 's taste to strike 
With gay, grotesque, outrageous dresses, 

And dances comically, like 

Clodoche and Co., at the Princess's. 




Uaal/^ 



But Freddy tries another style, 

He knows some graceful steps, and does 'em- 
A breathing Poem— Woman's smile — 

A man all poesy and buzzem. 



26 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Now Freddy's operatic 'pm — 

Now Johnny's hornpipe seems entrappin^^ 
Now Freddy's graceful emirechaU — 

Now Johnny's skilful " cellar-flapping." 

For many hours — for many days — 

For many weeks performed each brother. 

For each was active in his ways, 

And neither would give in to t' other. 

After a month of this, they say 

(The maid was getting bored and moody) 
A wandering curate passed that way, 

And talked a lot of goody-goody. 

" Oh, my," said he, with solemn frown, 
" I tremble for each dancing /Vai^r, 
Like unregenerated clown 
And harlequin at some thee-ayter." 




He showed that men, in dancing, do 
Both impiously and absurdly, 

And proved his proposition true. 
With Firstly, Secondly, and Thirdly, 



JOHN AND FREDDY. 27 

For months both. Jolin and Freddy danced, 
The curate's protests little heeding ; 

For months the curate's words enhanced 
The sinfulness of their proceeding. 

At length they bowed to Nature's rule — 
Their steps grew feeble and unsteady, 

Till Freddy fainted on a stool, 

And Johnny on the top of Freddy. 




hoJLr 



" Decide ! " quoth the}'-, " let him be named 

Who henceforth as his wife may rank you." 
" I 've changed my views," the maiden said, 
" I only marry curates, thank you ! " 

Says Freddy, " Here is goings on ! 
To bust myseK with rage I 'm ready." 
" I '11 be a curate," whispers John — 
" And I," exclaimed poetic Freddy. 

But while they read for it, these chaps, 
The curate booked the maiden bonny — 

And when she 's buried him, perhaps, 
She '11 marry Frederick or Johnny. 




SIE GUT THE CEUSADER 

Sir Guy was a doughty crusader, 

A muscular knight, 

Ever ready to fight, 
A very determined invader, 

And Dickey de Lion's delight. 

Lenore was a Saracen maiden, 

Brunette, statuesque, 

The reverse of grotesque, 
Her Pa was a bagman at Aden, 

Her mother she played in burlesque. 

A corypMe pretty and loyal, 

In amber and red, 

The ballet she led ; 
Her mother performed at the Royal, 

Lenore at the Saracen's Head. 



SIR GUY THE CRUSADER. 29 




Of face and of figure majestic, 

She dazzled the cits — 

Ecstaticized pits ; — 
Her troubles were only domestic, 

But drove her half out of her wits. 

Her father incessantly lashed her. 

On water and bread 

She was grudgingly fed ; 
Whenever her father he thrashed her 

Her mother sat down on her head. 

Guy saw her and loved her, with reason. 
For beauty so bright 
Sent him mad with delight ; 

He purchased a stall for the season 
And sat in it every night. 

His views were exceedingly proper, 

He wanted to wed, 

So he called at her shed 
And saw her progenitor whop her — 

Her mother sit down on her head. 

** So pretty," said he, " and so trusting ! 
You brute of a dad. 
You unprincipled cad, 
Your conduct is really disgusting. 

Come, come, now, admit it 's too bad ! 



30 



THE "BAB'' BALLADS. 



" You 're a turband old Turk, and malignant— 
Your daughter Lenore 
I intensely adore, 
And I cannot help feeling indignant, 
A fact that 1 hinted before. 

" To see a fond father employing 
A deuce of a knout 
For to bang lier about, 
To a sensitive lover 's annoying." 

Said the bagman, " Crusader, get out." 




S;iy3 Guy, " Shall a warrior lader? 

With a big spiky knob, 

Stand idly and sob, 
While a beautiful Saracen maiden 

Is whipped by a Saracen snob \ 

" To London I '11 go from my charmer." 
Which he did, with his loot 
(Seven hats and a flute), 
And was nabbed for his Sydenham armour 
At Mr. Ben-Samuel's suit. 

Sir Guy he was lodged in the Compter, 

Her Pa, in a rage. 

Died (don't know his age). 
His daughter, she married the prompter, 

Grew bulky, and quitted the stage. 



HAUNTED 

Haunted ? Ay, in a social way 

By a body cf ghosts in a dread array . 

But no conventional spectres they^ — 

Appalling, grim, and tricky : 
I quail at mine as I 'd never quail 
At a fine traditional spectre pale, 
With a turnip head and a ghostly wail, 

And a splash of blood on the dickey I 

Mine are horrible, social ghosts, — 
Speeches and women and guests and hosts, 
Weddings and morning calls and toasts, 

In every bad variety : 
Ghosts who hover about the grave 
Of all that 's manly, free, and brave : 
You '11 find their names on the architrave 

Of that charnel-house, Society. 

Black Monday — black as its school-room ink- 
With its dismal boys that snivel and think 
Of its nauseous messes to eat and drink, 

And its frozen tank to wash in. 
That was the first that brought me grief, 
And made me weep, till I sought relief 
In an emblematical handkerchief. 

To choke such baby bosh in. 

First and worst in the grim array — 
Ghosts of ghosts that have gone their way, 
Which I wouldn't revive for a single day 
For all the wealth of Plutus — 



32 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Are the horrible ghosts that school-days scared : 
If the classical ghost that Brutus dared 
Was the ghost of his " Caesar " unprepared, 
I 'm sure I pity Brutus. 

I pass to critical seventeen ; 

The ghost of that terrible wedding scene, 

When an elderly colonel stole my queen, 

And woke my dream of heaven. 
No school-girl decked in her nurse-rooin curls 
Was my gushing innocent queen of pearls : 
If she wasn't a girl of a thousand girls. 

She was one of forty-seven ! 

I see the ghost of my first cigar — 

Of the thence-arising family jar — 

Of my maiden brief (I was at the Bar), 

(I called the Judge " Your wushup ! ") 
Of reckless days and reckless nights, 
With wrenched- off knockers, extinguished lights, 
Unholy songs, and tipsy fights, 

Which I strove in vain to hush up. 

Ghosts of fraudulent joint-stock banks, 
Ghosts of " copy, declined with thanks," 
Of novels returned in endless ranks, 

And thousands more, I suffer. 
The only line to fitly grace 
My humble tomb, when I 've run my race, 
Is, " Reader, this is the resting-place 

Of an unsuccessful duffer." 

I 've fought them all, these ghosts of mine, 
But the weapons I 've used are sighs and brine, 
And now that I 'm nearly forty-nine. 

Old age is my chiefest bogy ; 
For my hair is thinning away at the crown, 
And the silver fights with the worn-out brown ; 
And a general verdict sets me down 

As an irreclaimable fogy. 



THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAK 

It was a Bishop bold, 

And London was his see, 
He was short and stout and round about. 

And zealous as could be. 

It also was a Jew, 

Who drove a Putney bus — 
For flesh of swine, however fine, 

He did not care a cuss. 

His name was Hash Baz Ben, 

And Jedediah too, 
ind Solomon and Zabulon- 

This bus-directing Jew. 




The Bishop said, said he, 
" I '11 see what I can do 
To Christianize and make you wise, 
You poor benighted Jew." 

So every blessed day 

That bus he rode outside, 
From Fulham town, both up and down^ 

And loudly thus he cried : — 

*' His name is Hash Baz Ben, 
And Jedediah too. 
And Solomon and Zabulon — 
This bus-directing Jew." 



34 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

At first the busman smiled, 
And rather liked the fun — 

He merely smiled, that Hebrew child, 
And said, " Eccentric one ! " 




And gay young dogs would wait 

To see the bus go by 
(These gay young dogs in striking togs^, 

To hear the Bishop cry : — 

•^ Observe his grisly beard — 
His race it clearly shows ; 
He sticks no fork in ham or pork- 
Observe, my friends, his nose. 

'* His na'ne is Hash Baz Ben, 
And Jedediah too, 
And Solomon and Zabulon — 
This bus-directing Jew." 

But though at first amused. 

Yet after seven years, 
This Hebrew child got awful riled, 

And busted into tears. 



THE BISHOP AND THE BUSMAN, 35 

He really almost feared 

To leave his poor abode, 
His nose, and name, and beard became 

A byword on that road. 

At length he swore an oath, 
The reason he would know — 
" I '11 call and see why ever he 
Does persecute me so." 

The good old Bishop sat 

On his ancestral chair, 
The busman came, sent up his name, 

And laid his grievance bare. 




" Benighted Jew," he said, 

(And chuckled loud with joy) 

" Be Christian, you, instead of Jew — 
Become a Christian boy. 

" I '11 ne'er annoy you more." 

" Indeed ? " replied the Jew — 
" ShaU I be freed ? " " You will, indeed ! » 
Th€n " Done ! " said he, " with you ! " 



36 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. 

The organ which, in man, 
Between the eyebrows grows, 

Fell from his face, and in its place 
He found a Christian nose. 

His tangled Hebrew beard, 
Which to his waist came down, 

Was now a pair of whiskers fair — 
His name, Adolphus Brown. 




He wedded in a year 

That prelate's daughter Jane ; 
He 's grown quite fair — has auburi] hair- 

His wife is far from plain. 




THE TEOUBADOIJR. 

A TROUBADOUR he played 
Without a castle wall, 

Within, a hapless maid 
Responded to his call. 

" Oh, willow, woe is me ! 
Alack and well-a-day ! 
If 1 were only free 

I 'd hie me far away ! " 

Unknown her face and name, 
But this he knew right well. 

The maiden's wailing came 
From out a dungeon cell. 

A hapless woman lay 

Within that dungeon grim — ■ 
That fact, I 've heard him say, 

Was quite enough for him. 

** I will not sit or lie. 

Or eat or drink, I vow, 
Till thou art free as I, 
Or I as pent as thou." 



38 7HE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

Her tears tlien ceased to flow, 
Her wails no longer rang, 

And tuneful in her woe 
The prisoned maiden sang : 

" Oh, stranger, as you play, 
I recognize your touch ; 
And all that I can say 
Is, thank you very much." 

He seized his clarion straight, 

And blew thereat, until 
A warden oped the gate. 
" Oh, what might be j^our will ? '* 

" I 've come, Sir Knave, to see 
The master of these halls : 
A maid unwillingly 

Lies prisoned in their walls." 

With barely stifled sigh 

That porter drooped his head, 
With teardrops in his eye, 
" A many, sir," he said. 

He stayed to hear no more, 
But pushed that porter by. 

And shortly stood before 
Sir Hugh de Peckham Eye. 

Sir Hugh he darkly frowned, 
"What would you, sir, with me ?* 
The troubadour he dowTied 
Upon his bended knee. 




THE TROUBADOUR. 39 

" I 've come, De Peckham Eye, 
To do a Christian task ; 
You ask me what would I ? 
It is not much I ask. 

" Release these maidens, sir, 
Whom you dominion o'er — 
Particularly her 
Upon the second floor. 




* And if you don't, my lord " — 
He here stood bolt upright. 
And tapped a tailor's sword — 
" Come out, you cad, and fight I' 

Sir Hugh he called — and ran 
The warden from the gate : 
" Go, show this gentleman 
The maid in Forty-eight." 

By many a cell they past. 
And stopped at length before 

A portal, bolted fast : 

The man unlocked, the door. 



40 THE " BAB " BALLADS. 

He called inside the gate 

With coarse and brutal shout, 
" Come, step it, Forty-eight ! " 
And Forty -eight stepped out. 




" They gets it pretty hot, 

The maidens wot we cotch 

Two years this lady 's got 
For collaring a wotch." 

" Oh, ah !— indeed— I see," 

The troubadour exclaimed— 

*' If I may make so free. 

How is this castle named ?" 

The warden's eyelids fill, 
And sighing," he replied, 
" Of gloomy Pentonville 
This is the female side ! ** 

The minstrel did not wait 
The warden stout to thank, 

But recollected straight 
He 'd business at the Bank. 



FERDIXANDO AND ELYIEA; 

Or, the Gentle Pieman. 

PART I. 

At a pleasant evening party I had taken down 

to supper 
One whom I will call Elvira, and we talked of love 

and Tupper, 

Mr. Tupper and the Poets, very lightly with them 

dealing, 
For I 've always been distinguished for a strong 

poetic feeling. 

Then we let off paper crackers, each of which 

contained a motto, 
And she listened while I read them, till her 

mother told her not to. 

Then she whispered, " To the ball-room we had 

better, dear, be walking ; 
If we stop down here much longer, really people 

will be talking." 

There were noblemen in coronets, and military 

cousins, 
There were captains by the hundred, there were 

baronets by dozens. 

Yet she heeded not their offers, but dismissed 

them with a blessing ; 
Then she let down all her back hair, which had 

taken long in dressing. 

Then she had convulsive sobbings in her agitated 

throttle. 
Then she wiped her pretty eyes and smelt her 

pretty smelling bottle. 

So I whispered, " Dear Elvira, say,— what can the 
matter be with you ? 

Does anything you 've eaten, darling Popsy, dis- 
agree with you ? 



42 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

But spite of all I said, ter sobs grew more and 

more distressing, 
And she tore her pretty back hair, which had 

taken long in dressing. 

Then she gazed upon the carpet, at the ceiling, 

then above me, 
And she whispered, " Ferdinando, do you really, 

really love me ? " 

" Love you ? " said I, then I sighed, and then I 

gazed upon her sweetly — 
For I think I do this sort of thing particularly 

neatly. 

"Send me to the Arctic regions, or illimitable 

azure. 
On a scientific goose-chase, with my Coxwell or 

my Glaisher I 

" Tell me whither I may hie me — tell me, dear 
one, that I may know — 

Is it up the highest Andes ? down a horrible vol- 
cano ? " 

But she said, " It isn't polar bears, or hot volcanic 

grottoes : 
Only find out who it is that writes those lovely 

cracker mottoes ! " 



PART II. 
'^ Tell me, Henry Wadsworth, Alfred, Poet Close, 

or Mister Tupper, 
Do you write the bon-bon mottoes my Elvira pulls 

at supper ? " 

But Henry Wadsworth smiled, and said he had not 

had that honour ; 
And Alfred, too, disclaimed the words that told 

so much upon her. 

" Mister Martin Tupper, Poet Close, I beg of you 

inform us ; " 
But my question seemed to throw them both into 

a ra^e enormous. 



FERDINANDO AND ELVIRA, 43 

Mister Close expressed a wish that lie could only 

get anigh to me ; 
And Mister Martin Tupper sent the following 

reply to me : 

*' A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread 
a bandit," — 

Which I know was very clever ; but I didn't under- 
stand it. 

Seven weary years I wandered — Patagonia, China, 

Norway, 
Till at last I san"k exhausted at a pastrycook his 

doorway. 

There were fuchsias and geraniums, and daffodils 

and myrtle ; 
So I entered, and I ordered half a basin of mock 

turtle. 

He was plump and he was chubby, he was smooth 

and he was rosy. 
And his little wife was pretty and particularly 

cosy. 

And he chirped and sang, and skipped about, and 

laughed with laughter hearty — 
He was wonderfully active for so very stout a 

party. 

And I said, " gentle pieman, why so very, very 

merry ? 
Is it purity of conscience, or your one-and-seven 

sherry ? 

But he answered, " I 'm so happy — no profession 

could be dearer — 
If I am not humming 'Tra ! la ! la !' I'm singing 

* Tirer, lirer ! ' 

" First I go and make the patties, and the puddings, 

and the jellies. 
Then I make a sugar bird-cage, which upon a table 

swell is : 



44 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

" Then I polisli all tlie silver, which a supper- table 

lacquers ; 
Then I write the pretty mottoes which you find 

inside the crackers " — 

" Found at last ! " I madly shouted. " Gentle pie- 
man, you astound me ! " 

Then I waved the turtle soup enthusiastically 
round me. 

And I shouted and I danced until he 'd quite a 

crowd around him, 
And I rushed away exclaiming, " I have found 

him ! I have found him ! " 

And I heard the gentle pieman in the road behind 

me trilling, 
"'Tira ! lira !' stop him, stop him ! 'Tra ! la ! la !' 

the soup 's a shilling ! " 

But until I reached Elvira's home, I never, never 

waited. 
And Elvira to her Ferdinand 's irrevocably mated 1 




LOEENZO DE LASDT. 

Dalilah de Dardy adored 
Tlie very correctest of cards, 

Lorenzo de Lardy, a lord — 

He was one of Her Majesty's Guards. 

Dalilah de Dardy was fat, 
Dalilah de Dardy was old — 

(No doubt in the world about that), 
But Dalilah de Dardy had gold. 



46 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Lorenzo de Lardy was tall, 

The flower of maidenly pets, 
Young ladies would love at his call, 

But Lorenzo de Lardy had debts. 

His money position was queer, 
And one of his favourite freaks 

Was to hide himself three times a year 
In Paris, for several weeks. 

Many days didn't pass him before 
He fanned himself into a flame 

For a beautiful " Dam du Comptwore," 
And this was her singular name : 

Alice Eulaxie Coraline 
Euphrosine Colombina Therese 

Juliette Stephanie Celestine 

Charlotte Russe de la Sauce Mayonnaise. 

She booked all the orders and tin, 

Accoutred in showy fal-lal, 
At a two-fifty restaurant, in 

The glittering Palais RoyaL 

He 'd gaze in her orbit of blue, 

Her hand he would tenderly squeeze, 

But the words of her tongue that he knew 
Were limited strictly to these : 

'-'■ Coraline Celestine Eulalie, 

Houp la ! Je vous aime, oui, mossoo, 
Combien donnez moi aujourd' hui 
Bonjour, Mademoiselle, parlez voo." 

Mademoiselle de la Sauce Mayonnaise 
Was a witty and beautiful miss. 

Extremely correct in her ways. 
But her English consisted of this : 

Oh my ! pretty man, if you please, 
Blom boodin, biftek, currie lamb, 

Bouldogue, two franc half, quite ze cheese, 
Rosbif, me spik Angleesh godam." 



LORENZO DE LARDY. 

He 'd gaze in her eyes all the day, 
Admiring their sparkle and dance, 

And list while she rattled away 
In the musical accents of France. 

A waiter, for seasons before, 

Had basked in her beautiful gaze, 

And burnt to dismember Milore — 
He loved de la Sauce Mayonnaise. 

He said to her, " Mechante Therese, 
Avec desespoir tu m'accables. 

Pense tu, de la Sauce Mayonnaise, 
Ses intentions sent honorables ? 

" Flirtez toujours, ma belle, si tu ose? — 
Je me vengerai ainsi, ma chere, 
Je le dirai de quoi on compose 
Vol au vent d la Financiere ! " 

Lord Lardy knew nothing of this- 
The waiter's devotion ignored, 

But he gazed on the beautiful miss, 
And never seemed weary or bored. 



47 




48 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

The waiter would screw up his nerve, 

His fingers he 'd snap and he 'd dance — 
And Lord Lardy would smile, and observe, 
" How strange are the customs of France ! " 

Well, after delaying a space, 

His tradesmen no longer would wait : 

Returning to England apace. 
He yielded himself to his fate. 

Lord Lardy espoused, with a groan. 
Miss Dardy's developing charms, 

And agreed to tag on to his own 

Her name and her newly-found arms. 

The waiter he knelt at the toes 
Of an ugly and thin corvphee. 

Who danced in the hindermost rows 
At the Theatre des Vari^tes. 

r.Iademoiselle de la Sauce Mayonnaise 
Didn't yield to a gnawing despair, 

But married a soldier, and plays 
As a pretty and pert Vivandiere. 




DISILLUSIONED. 

By an Ex-Enthusiast. 

Oh that my soul its gods could see 
As years ago they seemed to me 

When first I painted them ; 
Invested with the circumstance 
Of old conventional romance : 

Exploded theorem ! 




The bard who could, all men above, 
Inflame my soul with songs of love 

And, with his verse, inspire 
The craven soul who feared to die, 
With all the glow of chivalry 

And old heroic fire ; 

I found him in a beerhouse tap 
Awaking from a gin-born nap, 
With pipe and sloven dress • 



50 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Amusing chums, who fooled his bent 
"With muddy, maudlin sentiment, 
And tipsy foolishness ! 

The novelist, whose painting pen 
To legions of fictitious men 

A real existence lends, 
Brain-people whom we rarely fail, 
Whene'er we hear their names, to hail 

As old and welcome friends ; 

I found in clumsy snuffy suit, 
In seedy glove, and blucher boot 

Uncomfortably big ; 
Particularly commonplace, 
With vulgar, coarse, stock-broking face. 

And spectacles and wig. 

My favourite actor who, at will, 
With mimic woe my eyes could fill 

With unaccustomed brine : 
A being who appeared to me 
(Before I knew him well) to be 

A song incarnadine ; 

I found a coarse unpleasant man 
With speckled chin — unhealthy, wan — 
Of self-importance full : 

Existing in an atmosphere 
That reeked of gin and pipes and beer- 
Conceited, fractious, dull. 

The warrior whose ennobled name 
Is woven with his country's fame, 

Triumphant over all, 
I found weak, palsied, bloated, blear ; 
His province seemed to be, to leer 

At bonnets in Pall Mall 

Would that ye always shone, who wTite 
Bathed in your own innate lime-light. 

And ye who battles wage, 
Or that in darkness I had died 
Before my soul had ever sighed 

To see you off the stage ! 



BABETTE'S LOVE. 

Babette she was a fisher gal 

With jupon striped and cap in crimps. 
She passed her days inside the Halle, 

Or collaring of little shrimps. 
Yet she was sweet as flowers in May, 
"With no professional bouquet. 

Jacot was, of the Customs bold 

An officer, at gay Boulogne ; 
He loved Babette— his love he told 

And sighed, " Oh, soyez vous ma own !^ 
But " Non ! " said she, " Jacot, my pet, 
Vous etes trop scraggy pour Babette 




52 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

" Of one alone I nightly dream, 

An able mariner is he, 
And gaily serves the Gen'ral Steam 

Boat Navigation Companee. 
I '11 marry him, if he but will — 
His name, I rather think, is Bill. 

"I see him when he 's not aware, 
Upon our hospitable coast, 
Reclining with an easy air, 

Upon the Port against a post, 
A-thinking of, I '11 dare to say, 
His native Chelsea far away ! " 




'^cub 



" Oh, mon ! " exclaimed the Customs bold, 

"Mes yeux !" he said, which means "my eye. 
"Oh, chere !" he also cried, I'm told, 
" Par Jove," he added, with a sigh. 
"Oh, mon ! oh, chere ! mes yeux ! par Jove ! 
Je n'aime pas cet enticing cove I " 

The Fantlfierh captain stood hard by, 

He was a man of morals strict. 
If e'er a sailor winked his eye. 

Straightway he had that sailor licked, 
Mastheaded all (such was his code) 
Who dashed or jiggered, blessed or blowed. 

He wept to think a tar of his 

Should lean so gracefully on posts, 

He sighed and sobbed to think of this. 
On foreign, French, and friendly coasts. 
" It 'b human natur', p'raps — if so, 

Oh, isn't human natur' low ! " 



B ABETTERS LOVE, 



53 




He called his Bill, who pulled his curl : 
He said, " My Bill, I understand 

You 've captivated some young gurl 
On this here French and foreign land. 

Her tender heart your beauties jog— 

They do, you know they do, you dog. 

" You have a graceful way, I learn, 

Of leaning airily on posts, 
By wliich you 've been and caused to burn 

A tender flame on these here coasts. 
A fisher gurl, I much regret,— 
Her age, sixteen — her name, Babette. 

" You '11 marry her, you gentle tar — 
Your union I myself will bless, 
And when you matrimonied are, 
I will appoint her stewardess." 
But William hitched himself and sighed, 
And cleared his throat, and thus replied :- 

*' Not so : unless you 're fond of strife, 
You 'd better mind your own affairs ; 
I have an able-bodied wife 

Awaiting me at Wapping Stairs. 
If all this here to her I tell. 
She 'U larrup me, and you as well. 



54 THE ''BAB'* BALLADS. 

" Skin-deep, and valued at a pin, 

Is beauty such as Venus owns — 
Her beauty is beneath her skin, 

And lies in layers on her bones. 
The other sailors of the crew 
They always calls her ' Wapping Sue 1 ' '^ 

" Oho ! " the captain said, " I see ! 

And is she then so very strong ? " 
" She 'd take your honour's scruff," said he, 

" And pitch you over to Belong ! " 
" I pardon you," the captain said, 
" The fair Babette you needn't wed." 

Perhaps the Customs had his will. 
And coaxed the scornful girl to wed, 

Perhaps the captain, and his Bill, 
And William's little wife are dead ; 

Or p'raps they 're all alive and well ; 

I cannot, cannot, cannot tell. 

TO MY BRIDE. 

(whoever she may be.) 

Oh ! little maid ! — (I do not know your name 
Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution, 

I '11 add) — Oh, buxom widow ! married dame ! 
(As one of these must be your present portion) 

Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you, 

And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you. 

You '11 marry soon — within a year or twain — 
A bachelor of circa two and thirty : 

Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain, 

And, when you're intimate, you'll call him 
" Bertie." 

Neat — dresses well ; his temper has been classLlied 

As hasty ; but he 's very quickly pacified. 



70 MY BRIDE. 55 

You '11 find him working mildly at the Bar, 
After a touch at two or three professions, 

From easy affluence extremely far, 

A brief or two on Circuit — " soup " at Sessions; 

A pound or two from whist and backing horses, 

And, say, three hundred from his own resources. 

Quiet in harness ; free from serious vice. 
His faults are not particularly shady. 

You '11 never find him " sliy " — for, once or twice 
Already, he 's been driven by a lady. 

Who parts with him — perhaps a poor excuse for 
him — 

Because she hasn't any further use for him. 

Oh ! bride of mine — tall, dumpy, dark, or fair ! 

Oh ! widow — wife, maybe, or blushing maiden, 
I 've told your fortune ; solved the gravest care 

With which your mind has hitherto been laden. 
I 've prophesied correctly, never doubt it ; 
Now tell me mine — and please be quick about it ! 

You — only you— can tell me, an' you will, 
To whom I 'm destined shortly to be mated. 

Will she run up a heavy modiste's bill ? 
If so, I want to hear her income stated. 

(This is a point which interests me greatly) 

To quote the bard, "Oh ! have I seen her lately?" 

Say, must I wait till husband number one 
Is comfortably stowed away at Woking ? 

How is her hair most usually done ? 

And tell me, please, will she object to smoking ? 

The colour of her eyes, too, you may mention ; 

Come, Sibyl, prophesy — I 'm all attention. 




THE FOLLY OF BEOWN 
By a General Agent. 

I KNEW a boor — a clownisli card, 

(His only friends were pigs and cows and 

The poultry of a small farmyard) 

Who came into two hundred thousand. 

Good fortune worked no change in Brown, 
Though she 's a mighty social chymist ; 

He was a clown — and by a clown 
I do not mean a pantomimist. 

It left him quiet, calm, and cool, 

Though hardly knowing what a crown was- 
You can't imagine what a fool 

Poor rich uneducated Brown was ! 

He scouted all who wished to come 
And give him monetary schooling j 

And I propose to give you some 
Idea of his insensate fooling. 



THE POLL V OF BRO IVR. 



57 



I formed a company or two — 

(Of course, I don't know what the rest meant : 
I formed them solely with a view 

To help him to a sound investment). 

Their objects were — their only cares — 
To justify their Boards in showing 

A handsome dividend on shares, 

And keep their good promoter going. 

But, no ! — the lout sticks to his brass. 
Though shares at par I freely proffer : 

Yes — will it be believed ? — the ass 

Declines, with thanks, my well-meant offer. 

He added, with a bumpkin's grin 

(A weakly intellect denoting). 
He 'd rather not invest it in 

A company of my promoting ! 




" You have two hundred * thou ' or more," 

Said L " You '11 waste it, lose it, lend it ; 
Come, take my furnished second floor, 
1 '11 gladly show you how to spend it.** 



58 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS, 

But will it be believed that he, 
With grin upon his face of poppy, 

Declined my aid, while thanking me 

For what he called my " philanthroppy " ? 

Some blind, suspicious fools rejoice 

In doubting friends who wouldn't harm them; 

They will not hear the charmer's voice, 
However wisely he may charm them ! 

I showed him that his coat, all dust. 

Top boots and cords provoked compassion, 

And proved that men of station must 
Conform to the decrees of fashion. 




I showed him where to buy his hat. 

To coat him, trouser him, and boot him ; 
But no, — he wouldn't hear of that — 

" He didn't think the style would suit him !" 

I offered him a county seat, 

And made no end of an oration ; 
1 made it certainty complete. 

And introduced the deputation. 



THE FOLL V OF BRO WN. 59 

But, no — the clown my prospects blights — 
(The worth of birth it surely teaches !) 
" Why should I want to spend my nights 
In Parliament, a-making speeches ? 

" I haven't never been to school — 
I ain't had not no eddication — • 
And I should surely be a fool 

To publish that to all the nation ! " 




I offered him a trotting horse — 
No hack had ever trotted faster — 

I also offered him, of course, 
A rare and curious " Old Master." 

I offered to procure him weeds — 
Wines fit for one in his position ; 

But, though an ass in all his deeds, 

He 'd learnt the meaning of " commission/ 

He called me "thief" the other day. 
And daily from his door he thrusts me ; 

Much more of this, and sooji I may, 

Begin to think that Brown mistrusts me. 

So deaf to all sound Reason's rule 

This poor uneducated clown is, 
You canrioi fancy what a fool 

Poor rich uneducated Brown is. 



SIE MACKLIN. 

Of all the youths I ever saw 

None were so wicked, vain, or silly, 

So lost to shame and Sabbath law 
As worldly Tom, and Bob, and Billy. 

For every Sabbath Day they walked 

(Such was their gay and thoughtless natur) 

In parks or gardens, where they talked 
From three to six, or even later. 




Sir Macklin was a priest severe 
In conduct and in conversation ; 

It did a sinner good to hear 
Him deal in ratiocination. 

He could in every action show 

Some sin, and nobody could doubt him. 
He argued high, he argued low, 

He also argued round about him. 

He wept to think each thoughtless youth 
Contained of wickedness a skinful, 

And burnt to teach the awful truth 
That walking out on S^>iiday 's sinfuL 



SIR MACKLIN. 6i 

*' Oh, youths," said he, " I grieve to find 

The course of life you've been and hit on — 
Sit down," said he, " and never mind 
The pennies for the chairs you sit on. 

" My opening head is * Kensington,' 

How walking there the sinner hardens, 
Which when I have enlarged upon, 
I go to ' Secondly * — its ' Gardens. ' 

" My * Thirdly ' comprehendeth ' Hyde,' 
Of Secresy the guilts and shameses ; 
My ' Fourthly ' — ' Park ' — its verdure wide— 
My * Fifthly ' comprehends ' St. James's.' 

* That matter settled, I shall reach 

The ' Sixthly ' in my solemn tether, 
And show that what is true of each 
Is also true of all^ together. 

" Then I shall demonstrate to you, 

According to the rules of Whateley, 
That what is true of all, is true 
Of each, considered separately " 




In lavish stream his accents flow, 

Tom, Bob, and Billy dare not fiout him $ 

He argued high, he argued low. 
He also argued round about him. 



62 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



" Ha, ha ! " he said, " you loathe your ways. 
You writhe at these my words of warning, 
In agony your hands you raise." 
(And so they did, for they were yawning.) 




To " Twenty-firstly " on they go, 

The lads do not attempt to scout him ; 

He argued high, he argued low. 
He also argued round about him. 

" Ho, ho ! " he cries, " you bow your crests — 
My eloquence has set you weeping ; 
In shame you bend upon your breasts ! " 
(And so they did, for they were sleeping.) 

He proved them this — he proved them that- 
This good but wearisome ascetic ; 

He jumped and thumped upon his hat- 
He was so very energetic. 

His Bishop at this momei.t chanced 

To pass, and found the road encumbered ; 

He noticed how the Churchman danced. 
And how his congregation slumbered. 

The hundred and eleventh head 

The priest completed of his stricture. 
** Oh, bosh ! " the worthy Bishop said, 
And walked him off, as in the picture. 



THE YAKN OF THE "NANCY BELL." 

'T WAS on the shores that round our coast 

From Deal to Eamsgate span, 
That 1 found alone on a piece of stone 

An elderly naval man. 

His hair was weedy, his beard was long, 

And weedy and long was he, 
And I heard this wight on the shore recite, 

In a singular minor key ; 

" Oh, I am a cook and the captain bold, 

And the mate of the Nancy brig, 
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, 

And the crew of the captain's gig." 

And he shook his fists and he tore his hair, 

TiU I really felt afraid. 
For I couldn't help thinking the man had been 
drinking. 

And so I simply said : 

" Oh, elderly man, it 's little I know 

Of the duties of men of the sea. 
And I '11 eat my hand if I understand 

How you can possibly be 

" At once a cook, and a captain bold, 

And the mate of the Nancy brig, 
And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, 

And the crew of the captain's gig." 

Then he gave a hitch to his trousers, which 

Is a trick all seamen lam, 
And having got rid of a thumping quid, 

He spun this painful yarn : 



64 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

" T was in the good ship Nancy Bell 

That we sailed to the Indian Sea, 
And there on a reef we come to grief, 

Which has often occurred to me. 

" And pretty nigh all the crew was drowned 

(There was seventy-seven o' soul), 
And only ten of the Nancy's men 

Said ' Here ! ' to the muster-roll. 

" There was me and the cook and the captain bold, 

And the mate of the Nancy brig, 
And the bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, 

And the crew of the captain's gig. 

" For a month we 'd neither wittles nor drink. 

Till a-hungry we did feel. 
So we drawed a lot, and accordin' shot 

The captain for our meal. 

" The next lot fell to the Nancy^s mate, 

And a delicate dish he made ; 
Then our appetite with the midshipmite 

We seven survivors stayed. 

*' And then we murdered the bo'sun tight. 

And he much ressembled pig ; 
Then we wittled free, did the cook and me, 

On the crew of the captain's gig. 

" Then only the cook and me was left, 

And the delicate question, ' Which 
Of us two goes to the kettle ? ' arose, 

And we argued it out as sich. 

" For I loved that cook as a brother, I did, 

And the cook he worshipped me ; 
But we 'd both be blowed if we 'd either be stowed 

In the other chap's hold, you see. 

" ' I '11 be eat if you dines off me,' says Tom. 

' Yes, that,' says I, ' you '11 be, — 
I 'm boiled if I die, my friend,' quoth I. 

And ' Exactly so,' quoth he. 



YARN OF THE ''NANCY BELL:' 65 

•' Says he, ' Dear James, to murder me 

Were a foolish thing to do. 
For don't you see that you can't cook me, 

While I can — and will — cook you l' 

" So he boils the water, and takes the salt 

And the pepper in portions true 
(Which he never forgot), and some chopped shalot, 

And some sage and parsley too. 

" ' Come here,' says he, with a proper pride, 

Which his smiling features tell, 
* 'T will soothing be if I let you see 

How extremely nice you '11 smell.' 

" And he stirred it round and round and round, 
And he sniffed at the foaming froth ; 

When I ups with his heals, and smothers his squeals 
In the scum of the boiling broth. 

" And I eat that cook in a week or less. 

And — as I eating be 
The last of his chops, why, I almost drops, 

For a vessel in sight I see. 



" And I never larf, and I never smile, 
And I never lark nor play. 

But sit and croak, and a single joke 
I have — which is to say : 

" Oh, I am a cook and a captain bold, 
And the mate of the Nancy brig. 

And a bo'sun tight, and a midshipmite, 
And the crew of the captain's gig ! ' 




THE BISHOP OF EUM-TI-FOO. 

From east and south the holy clan 
Of Bishops gathered to a man ; 
To Synod, called Pan- Anglican, 

In flocking crowds they came. 
Among them was a Bishop who 
Had lately been appointed to 
The balmy isle of Rum-ti-Foo, 

And Peter was his name. 

His people — twenty-three in sum — 
They played the eloquent tum-tum. 
And lived on scalps served up in rum — 

The only sauce they knew. 
When first good Bishop Peter came 
(For Peter was that Bishop's name), 
To humour them, he did the same 

As they of Rum-ti-Foo. 

His flock, I 've often heard him tell, 
(His name was Peter) loved him well, 
And, summoned by the sound of bell. 



THE BISHOP OF R UM- TI-FOO. 67 

In crowds together came. 
" Oh, massa, why you go away ? 
Oh, Massa Peter, please to stay." 
(They called him Peter, people say, 

Because it was his name.) 




He told them all good boys to be. 
And sailed away across the sea. 
At London Bridge that Bishop he 

Arrived one Tuesday night ; 
And as that night he homeward strode 
To his Pan- Anglican abode. 
He passed along the Borough Road, 

And saw a gruesome sight. 

He saw a crowd assembled round 
A person dancing on the ground, 
Who straight began to leap and bound 

With all his might and main. 
To see that dancing man he stopped. 
Who twirled and wriggled, skipped and hopped, 
Then down incontinently dropped. 

And then sprang up again. 

The Bishop chuckled at the sight. 
" This style of dancing would delight 
A simple Rum-ti-Foozleite. 

I'll learn it if I can, 
To please the tribe when I get back." 
He begged the man to teach his knack. 
" Right Reverend Sir, in half a crack !" 
Replied that dancing man. 



58 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

The dancing man he worked away 
And taught the Bishop every day — 
The dancer skipped like any fay — 

Good Peter did the same. 
The Bishop buckled to his task 
"With hattements, cuts, and %ias de basque. 
(I '11 tell you, if you care to ask, 

That Peter was his name.) 

" Come, walk like this," the dancer said, 
" Stick out your toes — stick in your head. 
Stalk on with quick, galvanic tread — 

Your fingers thus extend ; 
The attitude 's considered quaint." 
The weary Bishop, feeling faint, 
Keplied, " I do not say it ain't. 

But ' Time ! ' my Christian friend." 




*' We now proceed to something new — 
Dance as the Paynes and Lauris do. 
Like this — one, two — one, two — one two." 

The Bishop, never proud, 
But in an overwhelming heat 
(His name was Peter, I repeat) 
Performed the Payne and Lauri fyat, 

And puffed his thanks aloud. 

Another game the dancer planned — 
"Just take your ankle in your hand. 
And try, my lord, if you can stand — 

Your body stiff and stark. 
If, when revisiting your see, 



THE BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO. 69 

You learnt to hop on shore —like me — 
The novelty would striking be, 
And must attract remark." 

" No," said the worthy Bishop, " No ; 
That is a length to which, I trow, 
Colonial Bishops cannot go.^ 

You may express surprise 
At finding Bishops deal in pride — 
But if that trick I ever tried, 
1 should appear undignified 
In Rum-ti-Foozle's eyes. 

*' The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo 
Are well-conducted persons, who 
Approve a joke as much as you. 

And laugh at it as such ; 
But if they saw their Bishop land, 
His leg supported in his hand. 
The joke they wouldn't understand — 

'T would pain them very much ! " 




THE PEECOCIOUS BABY. 
A VERY True Tale. 

(To he sung to the Air of the " Wliistling Oyster") 

An elderly person — a prophet by trade — 

With his quips and tips 
' On withered old lips, 

He married a young and a beautiful maid ; 

The cunning old blade ! 

Though rather decayed, 
He married a beautiful, beautiful maid. 




She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be, 

With her tempting smiles 

And maidenly wiles, 
And he was a trifle oft' seventy-three : 

Now what she could see 

Is a puzzle to me, 
In a buffer of seventy — seventy-three ! 



THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 71 

Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad) 

With tbeir loud high jinks 

And underbred winks, 
None thought they'd a family have — but they had ; 

A dear little lad 
Who drove 'em half mad, 
For he turned out a horribly fast little cad. 

For when he was born he astonished all by, 
With their " Law, dear me !" 
" Did ever you see ?" 

He 'd a weed in his mouth and a glass in his eye, 
A hat all awry — 
An octagon tie — 

And a miniature — miniature glass in his eye. 

He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap, 
With his "Oh, dear, oh!" 
And his " Hang it ! you know ! " 

And he turned up his nose at his excellent pap — 
" My friends, it 's a tap 
That is not worth a rap." 

(Now this was remarkably excellent pap.) 

He'd chuck his nurse under the chin, and he'd say, 
Withhis"Fal, lal, lal"— 
" You doosed fine gal ! " 
This shocking precocity drove 'em away : 
" A month from to-day 
Is as long as I '11 stay. 
Then I'd wish, if you please, for to hook it away." 

His father, a simple old gentleman, he 

With nursery rhyme 

And " Once on a time," 
Would tell him the story of " Little Bo-P," 
" So pretty was she. 

So pretty and wee. 
As pretty, as pretty, as pretty could be," 



72 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox, 

With his " C'ck ! oh, my !— 

Go along wiz 'oo, fie ! " 
Would exclaim, " I 'm afraid 'oo a socking ole fox." 

Now a father it shocks, 

And it whitens his locks, 
When his little babe calls him a shocking old fox. 

The name of his father he 'd couple and pair 

(With his ill-bred laugh, 

And insolent chaff) 
With those of the nursery heroines rare — 

Virginia the Fair, 

Or Good Goldenhair, 
Till the nuisance was more than a prophet could 
bear. 



THE PRECOCIOUS BABY. 73 

"There 's JiU and AVliite Cat" (said the bold Uttle 
brat, 
With his loud "Ha, ha!") 
" 'Oo sly ickle pa ! 
Wiz '00 Beauty, Bo-Peep, and '00 Mrs. Jack Sprat 1 
I 've noticed '00 pat 
My pretty white cat — 
I sink daar mamma ought to know about dat ! " 

He early determined to marry and wive, 

For better or worse 

With his elderly nurse, 
Which the poor little boy didn't live to contrive : 

His health didn't thrive — 

No longer alive, 
He died an enfeebled old dotard at five ! 




MORAL. 

Now, elderly men of the bachelor crew, 

With wrinkled hose 

And spectacled nose. 
Don't marry at all— you may take it as true 

If ever you do 

The step you will rue. 
For your babes will be elderly— elderly too. 



TO PHGEBE. 

" Gentle, modest little flower, 

Sweet epitome of May, 
Love me but for half an hour, 

Love me, love me, little fay." 
Sentences so fiercely flaming 

In your tiny shell-like ear, 
I should always be exclaming 

If I loved you, Phcebe dear. 

" Smiles that thrill from any distance 

Shed upon me while 1 sing ! 
Please ecstaticize existence. 

Love me, oh, thou fairy thing ! " 
Words like these, outpouring sadly, 

You 'd perpetually hear, 
If I loved you, fondly, madly ; — 

"But I do not, Phcebe dear. 




BAINES CAEEW, GENTLEMAN. 

Of all the good attorneys who 

Have placed their names upon the roll, 
But few oould equal Baines Carew 

For tender-heartedness and souL 

Whene'er he heard a tale of woe 

From client A or client B, 
His grief would overcome him so 

He 'd scarce have strenj^th to take his fee. 

It laid him up for many days 
When duty led him to distrain, 

And serving writs, although it pays. 
Gave him excruciating pain. 

He made out costs, distrained for rent, 
Foreclosed and sued, with moistened eye ; 

No bill of costs could represent 
The value of such sympathy. 

No charges can approximate 

The worth of sympathy with woe ; — 

Although 1 think I ought to state 
He did his best to make them so. 



36 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

Of all the many clients who 

Had mustered round his legal flag, 

No single client of the crew 

Was half so dear as Captain Bagg. 

Now, Captain Bagg had bowed him to 
A heavy matrimonial yoke : 

His wifey had of faults a few — 
She never could resist a joke. 

Her chaff at first he meekly bore, 
Till unendurable it grew. 
" To stop this persecution sore 

I will consult my friend Carew. 

" And when Carew's advice I 've got 
Divorce a mensd I shall try " 
(A legal separation — not 
A vinculo conjugii). 

*' Oh, Baines Carew, my woe I 've kept 
A secret hitherto, you know ; " 
(And Baines Carew, Esquire, he wept 
To hear that Bagg had any woe.) 




" My case, indeed, is passing sad, 

My wife — whom 1 considered true — 
With brutal conduct drives me mad." 
" I am appalled," said Baines Carew. 



BAINES CAREW, GENTLEMAN. 77 

" "What ! sound the matrimonial knell 
Of worthy people such as these ! 
Why was I an attorney ? Well — 
Go on to the soevitia, please." 

" Domestic bliss has proved my bane, 
A harder case you never heard, — 
My wife (in other matters sane) 
Pretends that I 'm a Dickey bird ! 

" She makes me sing, ' Too- whit, too-wee ! ' 
And stand upon a rounded stick. 
And always introduces me 

To every one as ' Pretty Dick ' ! " 

" Oh, dear," said weeping Baines Carew, 

" This is the direst case I knov/." 
" I 'm grieved," said Bagg, " at paining vou — 
To Cobb and Poltherthwaite I '11 go : 

" To Cobb's cold, calculating ear 

My gruesome sorrows I '11 impart." 

" No ; stop,'' said Baines, " I "11 dry my tear, 
And steel my sympathetic heart." 

" She makes me perch upon a tree, 

Rewarding me with, ' Sweety — nice ! ' 
And threatens to exhibit me 

With four or five performing mice." 

" Restrain my tears I wish 1 could " 

(Said Baines), " I don't know what to do." 
Said Captain Bagg, " You 're very good." 
" Oh, not at all," said Baines Carew. 




78 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. 

" She makes me fire a gun," said Bagg ; 
" And, at a preconcerted word, 
Climb up a ladder with a flag, 
Like any street-performing bird. 

" She places sugar in my way, 

In public places calls me * Sweet ! ' 
She gives me groundsel every day, 
And hard canary-seed to eat." 

" Oh, woe ! oh, sad ! oh, dire to tell ! " 

(Said Baines). " Be good enough to stop." 
And senseless on the floor he fell, 
With unpremeditated flop ! 




Said Captain Bagg, " Well, really I 
Am grieved to think it pains you so. 

I thank you for your sympathy "^^ 

But, hang it ! — come — I .say, you know ! " 

But Baines lay flat upon the floor, 
Convulsed with sympathetic sob ; 

The Captain toddled off next door. 
And gave the case to Mr Cobb. 




THOMAS WINTEEBOTTOM HANCEL 

In all the towns and cities fair 

On Merry England's broad expanse, 

No swordsman ever could compare 
With Thomas Winterbottom Hance. 

The dauntless lad could fairly hew 
A silken handkerchief in twain, 

Divide a leg of mutton too — 
And this without unwholesome strain. 

On whole half-sheep, with cunning trick, 
Hie sabre sometimes he 'd employ ; 

No bar of lead, however thick. 
Had terrors for the stalwart boy. 

At Dover daily he 'd prepare 

To hew and slash — behind, before — 

Which aggravated Monsieur Pierre, 
Who watched him from the Calais shore. 



8o 



THE ^'BAB" BALLADS. 




It caused good Pierre to swear and dance, 
The sight annoyed and vexed him so ; 

He was the bravest man in France — 
He said so, and he ought to know. 

" Regardez done, ce cochon gros — 
Ce polisson ! Oh, sacre bleu ! 
Son sabre, son plomb, et ses gigots ! 

Comme cela m'ennuye, enfin, mon Dieu ! 

' n sait que less foulards de soie 
Give no retaliating whack — 
Les gigots morts n'ort pas de quoi — 
Le plomb don't ever hit you back." 

But every day the headstrong lad 
Cut lead and mutton more and more ; 

And every day, poor Pierre, half ma*], 
Shrieked loud defiance from his shore. 

Hance had a mother, poor and old, 
A simple, harmless village dame, 

Who crowed and clapped as people told 
Of Winterbottom's rising fame. 

She said, " I '11 be upon the spot 
To see my Tommy's sabre-play ; " 

And so she left her leafy cot, 
And walked to Dover in a day. 



THOMAS WINTERBOTTOM HANCE. 8i 




Pierre had a doating mother, who 
Had heard of his defiant rage : 

His Ma was nearly ninety-two, 
And rather dressy for her age. 

At Hance's doings every morn, 

With sheer delight ]iis mother cried ; 

And Monsieur Pierre's contemptuous scorn 
Filled his mamma with proper pride. 

But Hance's powers began to fail — 
His constitution was not strong — 

And Pierre, who once was stout and hale, 
Grew thin from shouting all day long. 

Their mothers saw them pale and wan, 
Maternal anguish tore each breast, 

And so they met to find a plan 

To set their offsprings' minds at rest. 

Said Mrs. Hance, " Of course I shrinks 

From bloodshed, ma'am, as you're aware. 
But still they 'd better meet, I thinks." 
" Assurement ! " said Madame Pierre. 

A sunny spot in sunny France 

Was hit upon for this affair ; 
The ground was picked by Mrs. Hance, 

The stakes were pitched by Madame Pierre. 

Said Mrs. H., " Your work you see — 
Go in my noble boy, and win." 
*'En garde, mon fik !' said Madame P. 

" Allons !" " Go on !" " En garde !" '•' Begin 1" 



82 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



(The mothers were of decent size, 
Though not particularly tall ; 

But in the sketch that meets your eyes 
I' ve been obliged to draw them small.) 




Loud sneered the doughty man of France, 
"Ho! ho! Ho! ho! Ha! ha! Ha! ha!" 
"The French for 'Pish!'" said Thomas Hance. 
Said Pierre,"L' Anglais, Monsieur, pour ' bah.' " 

Said Mrs. H., "Come, one ! two ! three ! — 
We 're sittin' here to see all fair." 
" C'est magnifique !" said Madame P., 
" Mais, parbleu ! ce ne'st pas la guerre !" 

" Je scorn un foe si lache que vous," 

Said Pierre, the doughty son of France. 

" I fight not coward foe like you ! " 
Said our undaunted Tommy Hance. 

" The French for ' Pooh !'" our Tommy cried. 
" L'Anglais pour 'Va!'" the Frenchman crowed. 
And so, with undiminished pride, 
Each went on his respective road. 




THE EEYEEEND MICAH SOWLS. 

The Reverend Micah Sowls, 
He shouts and yells and howls, 
He screams, he mouths, he bumps, 
He foams, he rants, he thumps. 

His armour he has buckled on, to wage 
The regulation war against t*he Stage ; 
And warns his congregation all to shun 
' The Presence-Chamber of the Evil One." 

The subject's sad enough 
To make him rant and puff,, 
And fortunately, too. 
His Bishop 's in a pew. 

So Reverend Micah claps on extra steam. 
His eyes are flashing with superior gleam 
He is as energetic as can be. 
For there are fatter livings in that see. 



84 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

The Bishop, when it 's o^er, 
Goes through the vestry door, 
Where Micah, very red, 
Is mc^Ding of his head. 




" Pardon, my Lord, your Sowls' excessive zeaL 
It is a theme on which I strongly feel." 
(The sermon somebody had sent him down 
From London, at a charge of half-a-crown.) 

The Bishop bowed his head, 
And, acquiescing, said, 
" I 've heard your well-meant rage 
Against the Modern Stage. 

^ A modern Theatre, as I heard you say, 
3ows seeds of evil broadcast : well, it may; 
But let me ask you, my respected son. 
Pray, havo you ever ventured into one ? " 

" My Lord," said Micah, " no ! 
I never, never go ! 
What ! Go and see a play V 
My goodness gracious, nay ! "^ 

The worthy Bishop said, " My friend, no doubt 
The stage may be the place you make it out ; 
But if, my Reverend Sowls, you never go, 
I don't quite understand how you 're to know." 



THE REVEREND MICAH SOWLS. 85 

" Well, really," Micah said, 
" 1 Ve often heard and read, 

But never go — do you ? " 

The Bishop said, " I do." 

'''- That proves me wrong," said Micah, in a trice j 
" 1 thought it all frivolity and vice." 

The Bishop handed him a counter plain ; 
" Just take this stall and go to Drury Lane." 




The Bishop took his leave, 
Rejoicing in his sleeve. 
The next ensuing day 
Sowls went and heard a play. 

He saw a dreary person on the stage, 
^\iQ mouthed and mugged in simulated rage. 
Who growled and spluttered in a mode absurd, 
And spoke an English Sowls had never heard. 

For " gaunt " was spoken " garnt," 
And "haunt" transformed to "harnt," 
And " wrath " pronounced as " rath," 
And " death " was changed to " dath." 



86 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



For hours and hours that dismal actor walked 
And talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, 
Till lethargy upon the parson crept, 
And sleepy Micah Sowls serenely slept. 




He slept away until 
The farce that closed the bill 
Had warned him not to stay. 
And then he went away. 

■ I thought," said he, " I was a dreary thing, 
I thought my voice quite destitute of ring, 
1 thought mi/ ranting could distract the brain. 
But oh ! I hadn't been to Drury Lane. 

" Forgive me, Drury Lane, 
Thou penitential fane. 
Where sinners should be cast 
To mourn their wicked past ! " 




A DISCONTENTED SIJGAE BEOKEE, 

A GENTLEMAN of City fame 

Now claims your kind attention ; 
East India broking was Ms game, 
His name I shall not mention : 
No one of finely-pointed sense 
Would violate a confidence, 
And shall / go 
And do it ? No ! 
His name I shall not mention,, 

He had a trusty wife and true. 

And very cosy quarters, 
A manager, a boy or two, 
Six clerks, and seven porters. 
A broker must be doing well 
(As any lunatic can tell) 
Who can employ 
An active boy, 
Six clerks, and seven porters. 



88 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



His knocker advertised no dun, 

No losses made him sulky, 
He had one sorrow — only one — 
He was extremely bulky. 

A man mu^t be, I beg to state, 
Exceptionally fortunate 
Who owns his chief 
And only grief 
Is — being very bulky. 

" This load," he 'd say, " I cannot bear ; 
I 'm nineteen stone or twenty ! 
Henceforward I '11 go in for air 
And exercise in plenty." 

Most people think that, should it come; 
They can reduce a bulging tum 
To measures fair 
By taking air 
And exercise in plenty. 

In every weather, every day, 
Dry, muddy, wet, or gritty, 
He took to dancing all the way 
From Brompton to the City. 

You do not often get the chance 
Of seeing sugar brokers dance 
From their abode 
In Fulham Road 
Through Brompton to the City. 

He braved the gay and guileless laugh 

Of children with their nusses, 
The loud uneducated chaff 
Of clerks on omnibuses. 

Against all minor things that rack 
A nicely-balanced mind, I '11 back 
The noisy chaff 
And ill-bred laugh 
Of clerks on omnibuses. 



DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER. 89 




His friends, who heard his money chink, 

And saw the house he rented. 
And knew his wife, could never think 
What made him discontented. 

It never entered their pure minds 
That fads are of eccentric kinds, 
Nor Mould they own 
That fat alone 
Could make one discontented. 

" Your riches know no kind of pause, 
Your trade is fast advancing ! 
You dance — but not for joy, because 
You weep as you are dancing. 

To dance implies that man is glad, 
To weep implies that man is sad ; 
But here are you 
Who do the two — 
You weep as you are dancing ! " 

His mania soon got noised about 

And into all the papers ; 
His size increased beyond a doubt 

For all his reckless capers : 
It mav seem singular to you. 



QO THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

But all his friends admit it true — 
The more he found 
His figure round, 
The more he cut his capers. 

His bulk increased — no matter that — 

He tried the more to toss it — 
He never spoke of it as " fat," 
But " adipose deposit." 

Upon my word, it seems to me 
Unpardonable vanity 

(And worse than that) 
To call your fat 
An " adipose deposit." 




At length his brawny knees gave way, 

And on the carpet sinking, 
Upon his shapeless back he lay 
And kicked away like winking. 
Instead of seeing in his state 
The finger of unswerving Fate, 
He laboured still 
To work his will, 
And kicking away like winking. 

His friends, disgusted with him now, 

Away in silence wended. 
I hardly like to tell you how 
This dreadful story ended. 

The shocking sequel to impart, 
I must employ the limner's art — 
If you would know. 
This sketch will show 
How his exertions ended. 



DISCONTENTED SUGAR BROKER, 91 




MORAL. 

I hate to preach — I hate to prate — 

I 'm no fanatic croaker, 
But learn contentment from the fate 
Of this East India broker. 

He 'd everything a man of taste 
Could ever want, except a waist ; 
And discontent 
His size anent, 
And bootless perseverance blind, 
Completely wrecked the peace of mind 
Of this East India broker. 



THE PANTOMIME "SUPER" TO HIS 
MASK. 

Vast emptj^ shell ! 
Impertinent, preposterous abortion ! 

With vacant stare, 

And ragged hair, 
And every feature out of all proportion ! 
Embodiment of echoing inanity ! 
Excellent type of simpering insanity ! 
Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity ! 

I ring thy knell ! 

To-night thou diest, 
Beast that destroy'st my heaven-born identity ! 

Nine weeks of nights 

Before the lights, 
Swamped in thine own preposterous nonentity, 
I 've been ill-treated, cursed ,and thrashed diurnally, 
Credited for the smile you wear externally — 
I feel disposed to smash thy face, infernally, 

As there thou liest ! 

I 've been thy brain : 
I 've been the brain that lit thy dull concavity ! 

The human race 

Invest my face 
With thine expression of unchecked depravity. 
Invested with a ghastly reciprocity, 
/ 've been responsible for thy monstrosity, 
I, for thy wanton, blundering ferocity — 

But not again ! 

'T is time to toll 
Thy knell, and that of follies pantomimical : 
A nine weeks' run, 
And thou hast done 



" SUPER " TO HIS MASK. 93 

All thou canst do to make thyself inimicaL 
Adieu, embodiment of all inanity ! 
Excellent type of simpering insanity ! 
Unwieldy, clumsy nightmare of humanity ! 
Freed is thy soul ! 

{The Mash respondefh.) 

Oh ! master mine, 
Look thou within thee, ere again ill-using me. 

Art thou aAvare 

Of nothing there 
Which might abuse thee, as thou art abusing me ? 
A brain that mourns thine unredeemed rascality ? 
A soul that weeps at thy threadbare morality ? 
Both grieving that their individuality 

Is merged in thine ? 




THE FOECE OF ARGUMENT. 

Lord B. was a nobleman bold 
Who came of illustrious stocks, 

He was thirty or forty years old, 
And several feet in his socks. 

To Turniptopville-by-the-Sea 

This elegant nobleman went, 
For that was a borough that he 

Was anxious to rep-per-re-sent. 

At local assemblies he danced 
Until he felt thoroughly ill — 

He waltzed, and he galoped, and lanced, 
And threaded the mazy quadrille. 

The maidens of Turniptopville 
Were simple — ingenuous — pure — 

And they all worked away with a will 
The nobleman's heart to secure. 

Two maidens all others beyond 

Imagined their chances looked well — 

The one was the lively Ann Pond, 
The other sad Mary Morell. 

Ann Pond had determined to try 
And carry the Earl with a rush ; 

Her principal feature was eye. 

Her greatest accomplishment — gush. 




THE FORCE OF ARGUMENT. 95 

And Mary chose this for her play : 

Whenever he looked in her eye 
She 'd blush and turn quickly away, 

And flitter, and flutter, and sigh. 

It was noticed he constantly sighed 
As she worked out the scheme she had planned, 

A fact he endeavoured to hide 
With his aristocratical hand. 

Old Pond was a farmer, they say. 

And so was old Tommy Morell. 
In a humble and pottering way 

They were doing exceedingly well. 




They both of them carried by vote 
The Earl was a dangerous man ; 

So nervously clearing his throat, 
One morning old Tommy began : 

" My darter 's no pratty young doll — 
I 'm a plain-spoken Zommerzet man- 
Now what do 'ee mean by my Poll, 
And what do 'ee mean by his Ann ? " 



56 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Said B., "I will give you my bond 
I mean them uncommonly well, 

Believe me, my excellent Pond, 
And credit me, worthy Morell. 




" It 's quite indisputable, for 

I '11 prove it with singular ease, — 
You shall have it in ' Barbara ' or 
' Celarent ' — whichever you please. 

" You see, when an anchorite bows 
To the yoke of intentional sin — 
If the state of the country allows, 
Homogeny always steps in — 

" It 's a highly aesthetical bond. 

As any mere ploughboy can tell " 

" Of course," replied puzzled old Pond. 
" I see," said old Tommy Morell. 

" Very good, then," continued the lord ; 
" When it 's fooled to the top of its bent, 
With a sweep of a Damocles sword 
The web of intention is rent. 



THE FORCE OF ARGUMENT, 97 

" That 's patent to all of us here, 
As any mere schoolboy can tell." 
Pond answered, " Of course it's quite clear ;" 
And so did that humbug Morell. 

" Its tone 's esoteric in force— 

I trust that I make myself clear ? " — 
Morell only answered, " Of course," 

While Pond slowly muttered, " Hear, hear," 

" Volition — celestial prize, 

Pellucid as porphyry cell — 
Is based on a principal wise." 
" Quite so," exclaimed Pond and Morell. 

" From what I have said you will see 
Tliat I couldn't wed either — in fine, 
By Nature's unchanging decree 

Yowr daughters could never be mine. 

'' Go home to your pigs and your ricks, 
My hands of the matter I 've rinsed." 
So they take up their hats and their sticks, 
And exeunt ambo, convinced. 




THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, THE 
GAEL, AND THE GOBLIN. 

O'er unreclaimed surbiirban clays 

Some years ago were hobblin' 
An elderly ghost of easy ways, 

And an influential goblin. 
The ghost was a sombre spectral shape, 

A fine old five-act fogy, 
The goblin imp, a lithe young ape, 

A fine low-comedy bogy. 




THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, ETC. 99 

And as they exercised their joints, 

Promoting quick digestion, 
They talked on several curious points, 

And raised this delicate question : 
" Which of us two is Number One — 

The ghostie, or the goblin ? " 
And o'er the point they raised in fun 

They fairly fell a-squabblin'. 

They 'd barely speak, and each, in fine, 

Grew more and more reflective : 
Each thought his own particular line 

By chalks the more eff'ective. 
At length they settled some one should 

By each of them be haunted, 
And so arrange that either could 

Exert his prowess vaunted. 

*' The Quaint against the Statuesque " — 
By competition lawful — 
The goblin backed the Quaint Grotesque, 
The ghost the Grandly Awful. 
'' Now," said the goblin, " here 's my plan — 
In attitude commanding 
1 see a stalwart Englishman 
By yonder tailor's standing. 

" The very fittest man on earth 

My influence to try on — 
Of gentle, pVaps of noble birth. 

And dauntless as a lion ! 
Now wrap yourself within your shroud — 

Remain in easy hearing — 
Observe — you '11 liear him scream aloud 

When I begin appearing ! 

The imp with yell unearthly — wild — 

Threw off his dark enclosure : 
His dauntless victim looked and smiled 

With singular composure. 
For hours he tried to daunt the youth, 

For days, indeed, but vainly — 
The stripling smiled ! — to tell the truth, 

The stripling smiled inanely. 



xoo 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




For weeks the goblin weird and wild 

That noble stripling haunted ; 
For weeks the stripling stood and smiled 

Unmoved and all undaunted. 
The sombre ghost exclaimed, " Your plan 

Has failed you, goblin, plainly. 
Now watch yon hardy Hieland man, 

So stalwart and ungainly. 

*' These are the men who chase the roe, 

Whose footsteps never falter. 
Who bring with them, where'er they go, 

A smack of old Sir Walter. 
Of such as he, the men sublime 

Who lead their troops victorious, 
Whose deeds go down to after-time 

Enshrined in annals glorious ! 

" Of such as he the bard has said 
' Hech thrawfu' raltie rorkie ! 
Wi' thecht ta' croonie clapperhead 



THE GHOST, THE GALLANT, ETC. loj 

And fash' wi' unco pawkie ! ' 
He '11 faint away when I appear 

Upon his native heather ; 
Or p'r'aps he '11 only scream with fear, 

Or p'r'aps the two together." 




The spectre showed himself, alone, 

To do his ghostly battling, 
With curdling groan and dismal moan 

And lots of chains a-rattling ! 

But no — the chiel's stout Gaelic stuff 
Withstood all ghostly harrying ; 

His fingers closed upon the snuff 
Which upwards he w^as carrying. 

For days that ghost declined to stir, 

A foggy shapeless giant — 
For weeks that splendid officer 

Stared back again defiant ! 
Just as the Englishman returned 



I02 THE ''BAB'* BALLADS. 

The goblin's vulgar staring, 
Just so the Scotchman boldly spurned 
The ghost's unmannered scaring. 

For several years the ghostly twain 

These Britons bold have haunted, 
But all their efforts are in vain — 

Their victims stand undaunted. 
This very day the imp, and ghost. 

Whose powers the imp derided, 
Stand each at his allotted post — 

The bet is undecided. 



THE PHANTOM CUEATE. 
A Fable. 

A Bishop once — I will not name his see — 

Annoyed his clergy in the mode conventional ; 

From pulpit shackles never set them free, 

And found a sin where sin was unintentional. 

All pleasures ended in abuse auricular — 

The Bishop was so terribly particular. 

Though, on the whole, a wise and upright man, 
He sought to make of human pleasures clear- 
ances ; 

And form his priests on that much-lauded plan 
Which pays undue attention to appearances. 

He couldn't do good deeds without a psalm in 'em, 

Although, in truth, he bore away the palm in 'em. 

Enraged to find a deacon at a dance, 
Or catch a curate at some mild frivolity, 

He sought by open censure to enhance 

Their dread of joining harmless social jollity. 

Yet he enjoyed (a fact of notoriety) 

The ordinary pleasures of society. 

One evening, sitting at a pantomime, 

(Forbidden treat to those who stood in fear of 
him), 

Koaring at jokes sans metre, sense, or rhyme, 
He turned, and saw immediately in rear of him, 

His piece of mind upsetting, and annoying it, 

A curate, also heartily enjoying it. 

Again, 't was Christmas Eve, and to enhance 
His children's pleasure in their harmless rollick- 
ing, 
He, like a good old fellow, stood a dance ; 



I04 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

When something checked the current of his 
frolicking : 
That curate, with a maid he treated lover-ly, 
Stood up and figured with him in the " Coverley !" 

Once, yielding to an universal choice 
(The company's demand was an emphatic one, 

For the old Bishop had a glorious voice), 
In a quartet he joined — an operatic one, 

Harmless enough, though ne'er a word of grace 
in it; 

When, lo ! that curate came and took the bass in it ! 

One day, when passing through a quiet street. 
He stopped awhile and joined a Punch's gather- 
ing 

And chuckled more than solemn folk think meet 
To see that gentleman his Judy lathering ; 

And heard, as Punch was being treated penally, 

That phantom curate laughing all hysenally. 

Now at a picnic, 'mid fair golden curls. 

Bright eyes, straw hats, 6o^^mes that fit amazingly, 

A croq}iei-\)<yQX is planned by all the girls ; 

And he, consenting, speaks of croquet praisingly ; 

But suddenly declines to play at all in it — 

The curate fiend has come to take a ball in it ! 

Next, when at quiet seaside village, freed 

-From cares episcopal and ties monarchical. 
He grows his beard, and smokes his fragrant weed, 

In manner anything but hierarchical- 
He sees — and fixes an unearthly stare on it — 
That curate's face, with half a yard of hair on it ! 

At length he gave a charge, and spake this word : 
" Vicars, your curates to enjoyment urge ye may ; 
To check their harmless pleasuring 's absurd ; 
What laymen do without reproach, my clergy 
may." 
He spake, and lo ! at this concluding word of him, 
The curate vanished — no one since has heard of 
him. 



THE SENSATION CAPTAIN. 




No nobler captain ever trod 
Than Captain Parklebury Todd, 

So good — so wise — so brave, he ! 
But still, as all his friends would own 
He had one folly — one alone — 

This Captain in the Navy. 

I do not think I ever knew 
A man so wholly given to 

Creating a sensation ; 
Or p'r'aps I should in justice say — 
To what in an Adelphi play 

Is known as " Situation." 

He passed his time designing traps 
To flurry unsuspicious chaps — 

The taste was his innately ; 
He couldn't walk into a room 
Without ejaculating " Boom ! " 

Which startled ladies greatly. 

He 'd wear a mask and muffling cloak. 
Not, you will understand, in joke, 

As some assume disguises. 
He did it, actuated by 
A simple love of mystery 

And fondness for surprises. 

I need not say he loved a maid — 
His eloquence threw into shade 
All others who adored her : 



io6 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS, 

The maid, though pleased at first, I know, 
Found, after several years or so, 
Her startling lover bored her. 




So, when his orders came to sail 
She did not faint or scream or wail, 

Or with her tears anoint him. 
She shook his hand, and said " good bye," 
With laughter dancing in her eye — 

Which seemed to disappoint him. 

But ere he went aboard his boat 
He placed around her little throat 

A ribbon, blue and yellow. 
On which he hung a double tooth — 
A simple token this, in sooth — 

'T was all he had, poor fellow ! 

** I often wonder," he would say, 
When very, very far away, 
" If Angelina wears it ? 
A plan has entered in my head,— 
I will pretend that I am dead, 
And see hov/ Angy bears it." 

The news he made a messmate tell : 
His Angelina bore it well. 
No sign gave she of crazing j 



THE SENSATION CAPTAIN. 107 

But, steady as the Inchcape Rock 
His Angelina stood the shock 
With fortitude amazing. 

She said, " Some one I must elect 
Poor Angelina to protect 

From all who wish to harm her. 
Since worthy Captain Todd is dead, 
I rather feel inclined to wed 

A comfortable farmer." 

A comfortable farmer came 
(Bassanio Tyler was his name) 

Who had no end of treasure : 
He said, " My noble gal, be mine !'' 
The noble gal did not decline, 

But simply said, " With pleasure.'"' 

When this was told to Captain Todd, 
At first he thought it rather odd, 

And felt some perturbation ; 
But very long he did not grieve, 
He thought he could a way perceive 

To such a situation ! 

" I '11 not reveal myself," said he, 
" Till they are both in the Eccle- 
siastical arena ; 
Then suddenly I will appear, 
And paralysing them with fear, 
Demand my Angelina I " 




io3 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

At length arrived the wedding day — 
Accoutred in the usual way 

Appeared the bridal body — 
The worthy clergyman began, 
When in the gallant Captain ran 

And cried, " Behold your Toddy ! " 

The bridegroom, p'r'aps, was terrified, 
And also possibly the bride — 

The bridesmaids were affrighted ; 
But Angelina, noble soul, 
Contrived her feelings to control, 

And really seemed delighted. 

** My bride ! " said gallant Captain Todd, 
" She 's mine, uninteresting clod ! 

My own, my darling charmer !" 
" Oh, dear," said she, " you 're just too late,- 
I 'm married to, I beg to state. 

This comfortable farmer ! " 

" Indeed," the farmer said, " she 's mine, 
You 've been and cut it far too fine 1 " 

« I see," said Todd, " I 'm beaten." 
And so he went to sea once more, 
** Sensation " he for aye forswore. 
And married on her native shore 
A lady whom he 'd met before — 
A lovely Otaheitan. 



TEMPORA MUTANTUE. 

Letters, letters, letters, letters ! 

Some that please and some that bore, 
Some that threaten prison fetters 
(Metaphorically, fetters 
Such as bind insolvent debtors) — 

Invitations by the score. 

One from Cogson, Wiles, and Railer, 
My attorneys, off the Strand, 

One from Copperblock, my tailor — 

My unreasonable tailor — 

One in Flagg's disgusting hand. 

One from Ephraim and Moses, 
Wanting coin without a doubt, 

I should like to pull their noses— 

Their uncompromising noses ; 

One from Alice with the roses, — 
Ah, I know what that 's about ! 

Time was when I waited, waited 
For the missives that she wrote, 

Humble postmen execrated — 

Loudly, deeply execrated — 

When I heard I wasn't fated 
To be gladdened with a note. 

Time was when I 'd not have bartered 

Of her little pen a dip 
For a peerage duly gartered — 
For a peerage starred and gartered — 
With a palace-office chartered, 

Or a Secretaryship. 



lie THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

But the time for that is over, 

And I wish we 'd never met. 
I 'm afraid I 've proved a rover — 
I 'm afraid a heartless rover — 
Quarters in a place like Dover 
Tend to make a man forget. 

Now I can accord precedence 

To my tailor, for I do 
Want to know if he gives credence- 
An unwarrantable credence — 

To my proffered I U ! 

Bills for carriages and horses, 

Bills for wine and light cigar. 
Matters that concern the Forces — 
News that may affect the Forces — 
News affecting my resources. 
Now unquestioned take the "pab. 

And the tiny little paper, 

With the words that seem to run 
From her little fingers taper 
(They are very small and taper), 
By the tailor and the draper 
Are in interest outdone. 

And unopened it 's remaining ! 

I can read her gentle hope — 
Her entreaties, uncomplaining 
(She was always uncomplaining). 
Her devotion never waning — 

Through the little envelope I 



AT A PANTOMIME. 

By a Bilious One. 

An Actor sits in doubtful gloom, 
His stock-in-trade unfurled, 

In a damp funereal dressing-room 
In the Theatre Royal, World. 

He comes to town at Christmas-time^ 
And braves its icy breath, 

To play in that favourite pantomime, 
Harlequin Life and Death. 




A hoary flowing wig his weird 
Unearthly cranium caps. 

He hangs a long benevolent beard 
On a pair of empty chaps. 



112 THE ''BAB'* BALLAD:^, 

To smooth his ghastly features down 

The actor's art he cribs, — 
A long and a flowing padded gown 

Bedecks his rattling ribs. 

He cries, " Go on — begin, begin ! 

Turn on the light of lime ; 
I 'm dressed for jolly Old Christmas, in 

A favourite pantomime ! " 

The curtain 's up —the stage all black- 
Time and the year nigh sped — 

Time as an advertising quack — 
The Old Year nearly dead. 

The wand of Time is waved, and lo ! 

Revealed Old Christmas stands, 
And little children chuckle and crow. 

And laugh and clap their hands. 




The cruel old scoundrel brightens up 
At the death of the Olden Year, 

And he waves a gorgeous golden cup, 
And bids the world good cheer. 



AT A PANTOMIME. 113 

The little ones hail the festive King, — 
No thought can make them sad, 

Their laughter comes with a sounding ring, 
They clap and crow like mad ! 

They only see in the humbug old 

A holiday every year, 
And handsome gifts, and joys untola 

And unaccustomed cheer. 

The old ones, palsied, blear, and hoar, 
Their breasts in anguish beat — 

They 've seen him seventy times before, 
How well they know the cheat ! 

They 've seen that ghastly pantomime. 
They 've felt its blighting breath, 

They know that rollicking Christmas-time 
Meant Cold and Want and Death, — 

Starvation — Poor Law Union fare — 
And deadly cramps and chills. 

And illness — illness everywhere, 
And crime, and Christmas bills. 

They know old Christmas well, I ween, 

Those men of ripened age ; 
They 've often, often, often seen 

That Actor off the stage. 

They see in his gay rotundity 

A clumsy stuffed-out dress — 
They see in the cup he waves on high 

A tinselled emptiness. 

Those aged men so lean and wan. 

They 've seen it all before. 
They know they '11 see the charlatan 

But twice or three times more. 

And so they bear with dance and song. 

And crimson foil and green, 
They wearily sit, and grimly long 

For the Transformation Scene^ 



KING BOKKIA BUNGALEE BOO. 

King Borria Bungalee Boo 
"Was a man-eating African swell ; 

His sigli was a huUaballoo, 
His whisper a horrible yell — 
A horrible, horrible yell ! 

Four subjects, and all of them male, 
To Borria doubled the knee, 

They were once on a far larger scale, 
But he 'd eaten the balance, you see 
("Scale "and "balance " is punning, you see). 

There was haughty Pish-Tush-Pooh-Bah, 
There was lumbering Doodle-Dum-Dey, 

Despairing Alack-a-Dey-Ah, 

And good little Tootle-Tum-Teh— 
Exemplary Tootle-Tum-Teh. 

One day there was grief in the crew, 
For they hadn't a morsel of meat, 

And Borria Bungalee Boo 

Was dying for something to eat — 
" Come, provide me with something to eat ! 

^Alack-a-Dey, famished I feel ; 
Oh, good little Tootle-Tum-Teh, 
Where on earth shall I look for a meal ? 
For I haven't no dinner to-day ! — 
Not a morsel of dinner to-day ! 

•* Dear Tootle-Tum, Avhat shall we do ? 
Come, get us a meal, or, in truth, 
If you don't, we shall have to eat you. 
Oh, adorable friend of our youth ! 
Thou beloved little friend of our youth ! " 

And he answered, " Oh, Bungalee Boo, 
For a moment I hope vou will wait, — 

Tippy-Wippity Tol-the-Rol-Loo 

Is the Queen of a neighbouring state — 
A remarkably neighbouring state. 



KING BORRIA, 115 

*' Tippy-Wippity Tol-the-Roi-Loo, 
She would pickle deliciously ccld, 
And her four pretty Amazons, too, 
Are enticing, and not very old — 
Twenty-seven is not very old. 

'' There is neat little Titty-Fol-Leh, 
There is rollicking Tral-the-Ral-Lah, 
There is jocular Waggety-Weh, 

There is musical Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah — 
There 's the nightingale Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah ! " 




116 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

So the forces of Bungalee Boo 
Marched forth in a terrible row, 

And the ladies who fought for Queen Loo 
Prepared to encounter the foe — 
This dreadful, insatiate foe ! 

But they sharpened no weapons at all. 
And they poisoned no arrows — not they ! 

They made ready to conquer or fail 
In a totally different way — 
An entirely different way. 

With a crimson and pearly- white dye 

They endeavoured to make themselves fair, 

With black they encirled each eye, 

And with yellow they painted their hair 
(It was wool, but they thought it was hair). 

And the forces they met in the field : 
And the men of King Borria said, 
* Amazonians, immediately yield ! " 

And their arrows they drew to the head — 
Yes, drew them right up to the head. 

But jocular Waggety-Weh 

Ogled Doodle-Dum-Dey (which was wrong), 
And neat little Titty-Fol-Leh 

Said, " Tootletum, you go along ! 

You naughty old dear, go along !" 

And rollicking Tral-the-Ral-Lah 

Tapped Alack-a-Dey-Ah with her fan ; 

And musical Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah 

Said, " Pish, go away, you bad man ! 
Go away, you delightful young man ! " 

And the Amazons simpered and sighed. 
And they ogled, and giggled, and flushed, 

And they opened their pretty eyes wide. 
And they chuckled, and flirted, and blushed 
(At least, if they could, they 'd have blushed). 

But haughty Pish-Tush-Pooh-Bah 

Said, " Alack-a-Dey, what does this mean % ^ 
And despairing Alack-a-Dey-Ah 

Said, " They think us uncommonly green ! 

Ha ! ha ! most uncommonly green ! " 



KING BORRIA. 1^7 

Even blundering Doodle-Dum-Dey 

Was insensible quite to their leers, 
And said good little Tootle-Tum-Teh, 
" It 's your blood we desire, pretty dears — 
We have come for our dinners, my dears ! " 

And the Queen of fhe Amazons fell 
To Borria Bungaiee Boo, — 

In a mouthful he gulped, with a yell, 
Tippy-Wippity Tol-the-Rol-Loo— 
The pretty Queen Tol-the-Rol-Loo. 

And neat little Titty-Fol-Leh 

Was eaten by Pish-f ^oh-Bah, 
And light-hearted Wag^^ ty-Weh 

By dismal Alack-a-Dey-Ah — 

Despairing Alack-a-Dev-Ah. 

And rollicking Tral-the-Ral-Lah 

Was eaten by Doodle-Dum-Dey, 
Aud musical Doh-Reh-Mi-Fah 

By good little Tootle-Tum-Teh— 

Exemplary Tootle-Tum-Teh ! 




THE PEEIWIXKLE GlllL. 

I 'vE often thought that headstrong youths 

Of decent education, 
i3etermine all-important truths 

With strange precipitation. 

The over-ready victims they 

Of logical illusions, 
And in a self-assertive way 

They jump at strange conclusions. 

Now take my case : Ere sorrow could 

My ample forehead wrinkle, 
I had determined that I would 

Not like to be a winkle. 

" A winkle," I would oft advance 

With readiness provoking, 
'-* Can seldom flirt, and never dance, 

Or soothe his mind by smoking." 

In short, I spurned the shelly joy, 
And spoke with strange decision : 

Men pointed to me as a boy 
Who held them in derision. 

But I was young— too young by far — 

Or I had been more wary : 
I knew not then that winkles are 

The stock-in-trade of Mary. 




THE PERIWINKLE GIRL. 



no 



I had not seen her sunlight blithe 
As o 'er their shells it dances ; 

I Ve seen those winkles almost writhe 
Beneath her beaming glances. 

Of slighting all the winkly brood 

I surely had been chary, 
If I had known they formed the food 

And stock-in-trade of Mary. 

Both high and low and great and small 
Fell prostrate at her tootsies ; 

They all ^vere noblemen, and all 
Had balances at Coutts's. 

Dukes with the lovely maiden dealt, 
Duke Bailey and Duke Huniphy, 

Who ate her winkles till they felt 
Exceedingly uncomfy. 




Duke Bailey greatest wealth computes, 
And sticks, they say, at no-thing ; 

He wears a pair of golden boots, 
And silver underclothing. 



Duke Humphy, as I understand, 
Though mentally acuter. 

His boots are only silver, and 
His underclothing pewter. 



I20 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. 

A third, adorer had the girl, 

A man of lowly station— 
A miserable grov'ling Earl 

Besought her approbation. 

This humble cad she did refuse 

With much contempt and loathing : 

He wore a pair of leather shoes, 
And cambric underclothing ! 

" Ha ! ha ! " she cried. " Upon my word ! 
" Well, really — come, I never ! 
Oh, go along, it 's too absurd ! 
My goodness ! Did you ever ? 

" Two Dukes would make their Bowles a bride. 

And from her foes defend her." 
" Well, not exactly that," they cried, 
" We offer guilty splendour. 

" We do not offer marriage rite, 
So please dismiss the notion ! " 

" Oh, dear ! " said she ; " that alters quite 
The state of my emotion." 

The Earl he up, and says, says he, 
" Dismiss them to their orgies, 
For I am game to marry thee 
Quite reg'lar at St. George's." 

He 'd had, it happily befell, 

A decent education, 
His views would have befitted well 

A far superior station. 

His sterling worth had worked a cure, 
She never heard him grumble ; 

She saw his soul was good and pure, 
Although his ranlt was humble. 

Her views of earldoms and their lot 

All underwent expansion : 
Come, Virtue in an earldom's cot I 

Go, Vice in ducal mansion 1 



THOMSON GREEN AND HARRIET 
HALE. 

(To he sung to the Air of" An 'Orrible Tale.') 

Oh, list to this incredible tale 
Of Thomson Green and Harriet Hale ; 
Its truth in one remark you '11 sum — 
"Twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle 
twaddle twum ! " 

Oh, Thomson Green was an auctioneer, 
And made three hundred pounds a year ; 
And Harriet Hale, most strange to say, 
Gave pianoforte lessons at a sovereign a day. 

Oh, Thomson Green, I may remark. 
Met Harriet Hale in Regent's Park, 
Where he, in a casual kind of way, 
Spoke of the extraordinary beauty of the day. 




They met again, and, strange though true, 
He courted her for a month or two, 
Then to her Pa he said, says he, 
•'Old man, I love your daughter and your daughter 
worships me ! " 



122 THE ''BAB'* BALLADS. 

Their names were regularly banned, 
The wedding day was settled, and 
I 've ascertained by dint of search 
They were married on the quiet at St. Mary Ab- 
bott's Church. 

Oh, list to this incredible tale 
Of Thomson Green and Harriet Hale, 
Its truth in one remark you '11 sum — 
*' Twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle 
twaddle twum ! " 

That very selfsame afternoon 
They started on their honeymoon, 
And (oh, astonishment !) took flight 
To a pretty little cottage close to Shanklin^ Isle 
of Wight. 

But now — you '11 doubt my word, I know — 
In a month they both returned, and lo ! 
Astounding fact ! this happy pair 
Took a gentlemanly residence in Canonbury 
Square ! 

They led a weird and reckless life, 
They dined each day, this man and wife, 
(Pray disbelieve it, if you please) 
On a joint of meat, a pudding, and a little bit of 
cheese. 

In time came those maternal joys 
Which take the form of girls or boys. 
And, strange to say, of each they 'd one — 
A tiddy iddy daughter, and a tiddy iddy son. 

Oh, list to this incredible tale 
Of Thomson Green and Harriet Hale, 
Its truth in one remark you '11 sum — 
"Twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle 
twaddle twum ! " 

My name for truth is gone, I fear. 
But, monstrous as it may appear. 
They let their drawing-room one day 
To an eligible person in the cotton broking way. 



T. GREEN AND HARRIET HALE. 123 




Whenever Thomson Green fell sick 
His wife consulted Doctor Crick, 
From whom some words like these would come — 
Fiat mist, sumendum haustus, in a cochleyareum. 

For thirty years this curious pair 
Hung out in Canonbury Square, 
And somehow, wonderful to say ! 
T)iey loved each other dearly in a quiet sort of way . 

"Well, Thomson Green fell ill and died ; 
For just a year his widow cried, 
And then her heart she gave away 
To the eligible lodger in the cotton-broking way. 




Oh, list to this incredible tale 
Of Thomson Green and Harriet Hale. 
Its truth in one remark you '11 sum — 
** Twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle twaddle 
twaddle twum i " 



BOB BOLTER. 

Bob Polter was a navvy, and 

His hands were coarse, and dirty too, 

His liomely face was rough and tanned. 
His time of life was thirty-two. 

He lived among a working clan 
(A wife he hadn't got at all), 

A decent, steady, sober man — 
No saint, however — not at all. 




BOB POL TER. 



125 



He smoked, but in a modest way, 
Because he thought he needed it ; 

He drank a pot of beer a day, 
And sometimes he exceeded it. 

At times he 'd pass with other men 
A loud convivial night or two, 

With, very likely, now and then, 
On Saturdays, a fight or two. 

But still he was a sober soul, 
A labour-never-shirking man, 

Who paid his way — upon the whole 
A decent English working man. 

One day, when at the Nelson's Head 

(For which he may be blamed of you), 
A holy man appeared, and said, 
" Oh, Robert, I 'm ashamed of you." 

He laid his hand on Robert's beer 
Before he could drink up any. 

And on the floor, with sigh and tear, 
He poured the pot of " thruppenny." 




" Oh, Robert, at this very bar 
A truth you '11 be discovering, 
A good and evil genius are 
Around your noddle hovering. 



126 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

" They both are here to bid you shun 
The other one's society, 
For Total Abstinence is one. 
The other, Inebriety." 

He waved his hand— a vapour came-— 
A wizard Polter reckoned him : 

A bogey rose, and called his name, 
And with his finger beckoned him. 

The monster's salient points to sum, — 
His heavy breath was portery ; 

His glowing nose suggested rum ; 
His eyes were gin-and-wortery. 

His dress was torn — for dregs of ale 
And slops of gin had rusted it ; 

His pimpled face was wan and pale, 
Where filth had not encrusted it. 

* Come, Polter," said the fiend, " begin, 
And keep the bowl a-flowing on — 
A working man needs pints of gin 
To keep his clockwork going on." 

Bob shuddered : " Ah, you 've made a miss 
If you take me for one of you : 

You filthy beast, get out of this — 
Bob Polter don't want none of you." 

The demon gave a drunken shriek, 
And crept away in stealthiness. 

And lo ! instead, a person sleek, 
Who seemed to burst with healthiness. 

** In me, as your adviser hints. 

Of Abstinence you 've got a type — 
Of Mr. Tweedie's pretty prints 
I am the happy prototype. 

" If you abjure the social toast, 
And pipes, and such frivolities. 
You possibly some day may boast 
My prepossessing qualities ! " 

Bob rubbed his eyes, and made 'em blink : 
" You almost make me tremble, you 1 



BOB BOLTER. 127 

If I abjure fermented drink, 
Shall I, indeed, resemble you ? 

" And will my whiskers curl so tight ? 
My cheeks grow smug and muttony ? 
My face become so red and white ? 
My coat so blue and buttony ? 

" Will trousers, such as yours, array 
Extremities inferior ? 
Will chubbiness assert its sway, 
All over my exterior ? 

" In this, my unenlightened state, 
To work in heavy boots I comes; 
Will pumps henceforward decorate 
My tiddle toddle tootsicums ? 

" And shall I get so plump and fresh, 
And look no longer seedily ? 
My skin will henceforth fit my flesh 
So tightly and so Tweedie-ly ? " 

The phantom said, " You '11 have all tliis, 
You '11 know no kind of huffiness, 

Your life will be one chubby bliss, 
One long unruffled puffiness." 

" Be off ! " said irritated Bob. 

" Why come you here to bother one ? 
You Pharisaical old snob, 
You 're wuss almost than t' other one ! 

" I takes my pipe — I takes my pot, 
And drunk I 'm never seen to be : 
I 'm no teetotaler or sot, 
And as I am I mean to be I • 



THE STORY OF PMNCE AGia 




Strike the concertina's melancholy string ! 

Blow the spirit-stirring harp like anything ! 
Let the piano's martial blast 
Rouse the Echoes of the Past, 

For of Agib, Prince of Tartary, I sing ! 

Of Agib, who, amid Tartaric scenes, 
Wrote a lot of ballet-music in his teens : 

His gentle spirit rolls 

In the melody of souls — 
Which is pretty, but I don't know what it meanSc 

Of Agib, who could readily, at sight. 
Strum a march upon the loud Theodolite. 

He would diligently play 

On the Zoetrope all day. 
And blow the gay Pantechnicon all night. 



THE STORY OF PRINCE AGIB. i2q 

One winter— I am shaky in my dates- 
Came two starving Tartar minstrels to his gates ; 
Oh, Allah be obeyed, 
How infernally they played ! 
I remember that they called themselves the 
"Oiiaits." 

Oh ! that day of sorrow, misery, and rage, 
I shall carry to the Catacombs of Age, 

Photographically lined 

On the tablet of my mind, 
When a yesterday has faded from its page ! 

A\is ! Prince Agib went and asked them in ; 
Gave them beer, and eggs, and sweets, and scent, 
and tin. 

And when (as snobs would say) 

They " put it all away," 
He requested them to tune up'^and begin. 

Though its icy horror chill you to the core, 
I will tell you what I never told before, — 

The consequences true 

Of that awful interview, 
For I listened at the keyhole in the door ! 




I30 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. 

They played him a sonata — ^let me aee ! 

" Medulla oblongata " — key of G. 
Then they began to sing 
That extremely lovely thing, 

" Scherzando ! ma non troppo, ppp." 

He gave them money, more than they could count, 
Scent from a most ingenious little fount, 
More beer, in little kegs. 
Many dozen hard-boiled eggs, 
And goodies to a fabulous amount. 

Now follows the dim horror of my tale, 
And I feel I 'm growing gradually pale, 
For, even at this day, 
Though its sting has passed away, 
When I venture to remember it, I quail ! 

The elder of the brothers gave a squeal. 
All-overish it made me for to feel. 

" Oh, Prince," he says, says he, 

" 7/ a Prince indeed you be, 
1 've a mystery I 'm going to reveal ! 

" Oh, listen, if you 'd shun a horrid death, 

To what the gent who 's speaking to you saith : 

No ' Oiiaits ' in truth are we, 

As you fancy that we be. 
For (ter-remble !) I am Aleck — this is Beth ! * 




THE STORY OF PRINCE A GIB. 131 

Said Agib, " Oh ! accursed of your kind, 
I have heard that ye are men of evil mind ! • 
Beth gave a dreadful shriek — 
But before he 'd time to speak 
I was mercilessly collared from behind. 

In number ten or twelve, or even more, 
They fastened me, full length, upon the floor. 
On my face extended flat, 
I was walloped with a cat 
For listening at the hey hole of a door. 

Oh ! the horror of that agonizing thrill ! 

(I can feel the place in frosty weather still). 
For a week from ten to four 
I was fastened to the floor, 

While a mercenary wopped me with a will ! 

They branded me and broke me on a wheel, 
And they left me in an hospital to heal ; 
And, upon my solemn word, 
I have never never heard 
What those Tartars had determined to rcTeaL 

But that day of sorrow, misery, and rage 
I shall carry to the Catacombs of Age, 
Photographically lined 
On the tablet of my mind, 
Wlien a yesterday has faded from its page ! 




ELLEJN^ McJONES ABERDEEN. 




Macphairson Clonglocketty Angus McClan 

Was the son of an elderly labouring man ; 

You Ve guessed him a Scotchman, shrewd reader, 

at sight. 
And p'r'aps altogether, shrewd reader, you're right. 

From the bonnie blue Forth to the beastly Deoside, 
Round by Dingwall and Wrath to the mouth of 

the Clyde, 
There wasn't a child or a woman or man 
Who could pipe with Clonglocketty Angus McClan. 

No other could wake such detestable groans. 
With reed and with chaunter — with bag and with 

drones : 
All day and all night he delighted the chiefs 
With sniggering pibrochs and jiggety reels. 

He 'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground, 
And the neighbouring maidens would gather 
around 



ELLEN MC JONES ABERDEEN, 153 

To list to His pipes and to gaze in his een, 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 

All loved their McClan, save a Sassenach brute, 
Who came to the Highlands to fish and to .hoot ; 
He dressed himself up in a Highlander way ; 
Tho' his name it was Pattison Corby Torbay. 

Torbay had incurred a good deal of expense 
To make him a Scotchman in every sense ; 
But this is a matter, you '11 readily own. 
That isn't a question ot tailors alone. 

A Sassenach chief may be bonily built. 
He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, and kilt ; 
Stick a skean in his hose — wear an acre of stripes — 
But he cannot assume an affection for pipes. 

Clonglocketty's pipings all night and all day 
Quite frenzied poor Pattison Corby Torbay ; 
The girls were amused at his singular spleen, 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 

" Macphairson Clonglocketty Angus, my lad, 
With pibrochs and reels you are driving me mad. 
If you really must play on that cursed affair, 
My goodness ! play something resembling an air." 

Boiled over the blood of Macphairson McClan — 
The Clan of Clonglocketty rose as one man ; 
For all were enraged at the insult, I ween — 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 

"Let's show," said McClan, "to this Sassenach 

loon 
That the bagpipes can play him a regular tune. 
Let 's see,'' said McClan, as he thoughtfully sat, 
" '/w my Cottage' is easy — I'll practise at that." 

He blew at his "Cottage," and blew with a will, 
"!For a year, seven months, and a fortnight, until 
•(You '11 hardly believe it) McClan, I declare. 
Elicited something resembling an air. 



134 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 



It was wild — it was ^tful — as wild as the breeze — 
It wandered about iiito several keys ; 
It was jerky, spasmodic, and barsh, I 'm aware ; 
But still it distinctly suggested an air. 

Tbe Sassenacb screamed, and the Sassenach danced,* 
He shrieked in his agony — bellowed and prance(^ 
And the maidens who gathered rejoiced at the scene, 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 

" Hech gather, hech gather, hech gather around ; 
And fill a' ye lugs wi' the exquisite sounv-I. 
An air fra' the bagpipes — beat that if ye can : 
Hurrah for Clonglocketty Angus McOlan ! " 

The fame of his piping spread over the land : 
Kespectable widows proposed for his hand, 
And maidens came flocking to sit on the green — 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 




ELLEN MCJONES ABERDEEN. 133 

"^One morning the fidgetty Sassenach swore 
He 'd stand it no longer — he drew his claymore, 
And (this was, I think, extremely bad taste) 
Divided Clonglocketty close to the waist. 

Oh ! loud were the wailings for Angus McClan, 
Oh ! deep was the grief for that excellent man — 
The maids stood aghast at the horrible scene, 
Especially Ellen McJ ones Aberdeen. 

It sorrowed poor Pattison Corby Torbay 
To find them "take on" in this serious way; 
He pitied the poor little fluttering birds, 
And solaced theirsouls with the following words: — 

" Oh, maidens," said Pattison, touching his hat, 
"Don't blubber, my dears, for a fellow like that; 
Observe, I 'm a very superior man, 
A much better fellow than Angus McClan." 

They smiled when he winked and addressed them 

as "dears," 
And they all of them vowed, as they dried up their 

tears, 
A pleasanter gentleman never was seen — 
Especially Ellen McJones Aberdeen. 




PETEE THE WAa 

Policeman Peter Forth I drag 
From his obscure retreat : 

He was a merry, genial wag, 
Who loved a mad conceit. 

If he were asked the time of day 
By country bumpkins green, 

He not unfrequently would say, 

" A quarter past thirteen." 




PETER THE WAG. 137 

If ever you by word of mouth 

Inquired of Mister Forth 
The way to somewhere in the South, 

He always sent you North. 
With little boys his beat along 

He loved to stop and play ; 
He loved to send old ladies wrong, 

And teach their feet to stray. 

He would in frolic moments, when 

Such mischief bent upon, 
Take Bishops up as betting men — 

Bid Ministers move on. 
Then all the worthy boys he knew 

He regularly licked, 
And always collared people who 

Had had their pockets picked. 

He was not naturally bad. 

Or viciously inclined. 
But from his early youth he had 

A waggish turn of mind. 
The Men of London grimly scowled 

"With indignation wild ; 
The Men of London gruffly growled, 

But Peter calmly smiled. 

Against this minion of the Crown 

The swelling murmurs grew — 
From Camberwell to Kentish Town, 

From Rotherhithe to Kew. 
Still humoured he his wagsome turn, 

And fed in various ways 
The coward rage that dared to bum. 

But did not dare to blaze. 

Still, Retribution has her day, 

Although her flight is slow : 
One day that Crusher lost his way 

Near Poland Street, Soho. 
The haughty boy, too proud to ask, 

To find his way resolved, 
And in the tangle of his task 

Got more and more involved. 



138 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

The Men of London, overjoyed, 

Came there to jeer their foe, 
And flocking crowds completely cloyed 

The mazes of Soho. 
The news, on telegraphic wires, 

Sped swiftly o'er the lea, 
Excursion trains from distant shires 

Brought myriads to see. 




For weeks he trod his self-made beats 

Through Newport- Gerrard- Bear- 
Greek- Rupert- Frith- Dean- Poland -streets, 

And into Golden Square. 
But all, alas ! in vain, for when 

He tried to learn the way 
Of little boys or grown-up men. 

They none of them would say. 

Their eyes would flash, their teeth would grind, 

Their lips would tightly curl ; 
They 'd say, "Thy way thyself must find, 

Thou misdirecting churl !" 
And, similarly, also, when 

He tried a foreign friend ; 
Italians answered, "7^ balen" — 

The French, " No comprehend." 



PETER THE WAG. 



139 




The Russ would say with gleaming eye 
" Sevastopol ! " and groan. 
The Greek said, TfTrrw, Tvirro/xai, 
Ti/TTTO), TVirreiv, tvtttiov." 

To wander thus for many a year 

That Crusher never ceased ; 
The Men of London dropped a tear, 

Their anger was appeased. 

At length exploring gangs were sent 

To find poor Forth's remains ; 
A handsome grant by Parliament 

Was voted for their pains. 
To seek the poor policeman out 

Bold spirits volunteered, 
And when they swore they 'd solve the doubt 

The Men of' London cheered. 

And in a yard, dark, dank, and drear, 

They found him, on the floor — 
It leads from Richmond Buildings — near 

The Royalty stage-door. 
With brandy cold and brandy hot 

They plied him, starved and wet, 
And made him sergeant on the spot- 

The Men of London's pet ! 



THE THEEE KINGS OF 
CHICKEEABOO. 

There were three niggers of Chickeraboo— = 
Pacifico, Bang-bang, Popchop — who 
Exclaimed, one terribly sultry day, 
•* Oh, let 's be Kings in a humble way. 




m^ 



THREE KINGS OF CHICKERABOO. 141 

The first was a highly accomplished " bones," 

The next elicited banjo tones, 

The third was a quiet, retiring chap. 

Who danced an excellent breakdown " flap." 

" We niggers," said they, " have formed a plan 
By which, whenever we like, we can 
Extemporize islands near the beach, 
And then we '11 collar an island each. 

" Three casks, from somebody else's stores, 
Shall rep-per-esent our island shores, 
Their sides the ocean wide shall lave, 
Their heads just topping the briny wave. 

" Great Britain's navy scours the sea. 
And everywhere her ships they be ; 
She '11 recognize our rank, perhaps. 
When she discovers we 're Royal Chaps. 

" If to her skirts you want to cling, 
It 's quite sufficient that you 're a King ; 
She does not push inquiry far 
To learn what sort of King you are." 

A ship of several thousand tons. 
And mounting seventy-something guns, 
Ploughed, every year, the ocean blue. 
Discovering Kings and countries new. 

The brave Rear- Admiral Bailey Pip, 
Commanding that superior ship, 
Perceived one day, his glasses through, 
Th,e Kings that came from Chickeraboo. 

** Dear eyes ! " said Admiral Pip, " I see 
Three flourishing islands on our lee, 
And, bless me ! most extror'nary thing ! 
On every island stands a King ! 

" Come, lower the Admiral's gig," he cried, 
" And over the dancing waves I '11 glide, 
That low obeisance I may do 
To those three Kings of Chickeraboo ! " 



142 rHB ' BAB'' BALLADS. 




The Admiral pulled to the islands three ; 
The Kings saluted him gracious^^e. 
The Admiral, pleased at his welcome warm, 
Pulled out a printed Alliance form. 

' Your Majesty, sign me this, I pray — 
I come in a friendly kind of way — 
I come, if you please, with the best intents, 
And Queen Victoria's compliments." 

The Kings were pleased as they well could be ; 
The most retiring of all the three 
In a *' cellar-flap " to his joy gave vent, 
With a banjo-bones accompaniment. 

The great Rear- Admiral Bailey Pip 
Embarked on board his jolly big ship, 
Blue Peter flew from his lofty fore. 
And off he sailed to his native shore. 

Admiral Pip directly went 
To the Lord at the head of the Government, 
Who made him, by a stroke of a quill, 
Baron de Pippe, of Pippetonnevllle. 

The College of Heralds permission yield 
That he should quarter upon his shield 
Three islands, vert^ on a field of blue, 
With the pregnant motto " CJhickeraboo.** 



THREE KINGS OF CHICKERABOO. 143 




Ambassadors, yes, and Attaches too 
Are going to sail for Chickeraboo ; 
And, see, on the good ship's crowded deck, 
A Bishop, who 's going out there on spec. 

And let us all hope that blissful things 
May come of alliance with darkey Kings, 
Oh, may we never, whatever we do, 
Declare a war with Chickeraboo I 



JOE GOLiaHTLY; 

Or, the First IjOrd's Daughter. 

A TAR, but poorly prized, 

Long, shambling, and unsightly, 

Thrashed, bullied, and despised, 
Was wretched Joe Golightly. 

He bore a workhouse brand, 
No Pa or Ma had claimed him, 

The Beadle found him, and 

The Board of Guardians named him. 

PVaps some Princess's son — 

A beggar p'r'aps his mother ! 
He rather thought the one, 

/ rather think the other. 

He liked his ship at sea. 

He loved the salt sea- water ; 
He worshipped junk, and he 

Adored the First Lord's daughter. 

The First Lord's daughter proud, 
Snubbed Earls and Viscounts 
nightly— 
She sneered at Barts aloud. 
And spurned poor Joe Go- 
lighty. 

Whene'er he sailed afar 
Upon a Channel cruise, he 

Unpacked his light guitar 
And sang this ballad (Boo- 
sey): 



JOE GOLIGHTLY 



145 



38allat>, 

St< moon ts on ti)e sea. 

^tlloin ! 
Ws\t toinli bloiDB lobjatOs Hje Uc, 

amaioto i 

38ut tftougti 2 gigt) anlj sob anft rrg, 
Ko ILaljg 3ane for nu, 

a^tlloijj ! 

&^ gags, *"2r tone follg quiter 

tmilloQ} ! 
Jbr me to iueD a toigtt, 

amaioin! 

■Bijoge lot 13 cast before the niagt ; ** 
9nli poggiblp she 'g rtgijt, 

^Ulobi ! 




His skipper (Captain Joyce) 
He gave him many a rating, 

And almost lost his voice 
From thus expostulating : 



146 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




* Lay out, you lubber, do ! 

What 's come to that young man, Joe ? 
Belay ! — 'vast heaving ! you ! 
Do kindly stop that banjo ! 

"I wish, I do — oh, lor* ! — 

You 'd shipped aboard a trader : 
Are you a sailor, or 
A negro serenader ? " 

But still the stricken cad, 

Aloft or on his pillow, 
Howled forth in accents sad 

His aggravating " Willow ! " 

Stem love of duty had 

Been Joyce's chiefest beauty : 

Says he, "I love that lad, 
But duty, damme ! duty ! 

** Twelve years' black-hole, I say, 
Where daylight never flashes ; 
And always twice a day 

Five hundred thousand lashes ! " 

But Joseph had a mate, 

A sailor stout and lusty, 
A man of low estate. 

But singularly trusty. 



JOE GOLIGHTLY. 



t47 




Says slie, " Cheer hup, young Joe ! 

I '11 tell you what I 'm arter, 
To that Fust Lord I '11 go 

And ax him for his darter. 

" To that Fust Lord I '11 go 

And say you love her dearly.'* 
And Joe said (weeping low), 
" I wish you would, sincerely I '' 

That sailor to that Lord 

Went, soon as he had landed, 

And of his own accord 
An interview demanded. 

Says he, with seaman's roll, 
" My Captain (wot's a Tartar) 
Guv Joe twelve years' black-hole, 
For lovering your darter. 

" He loves Miss Lady Jane 
(I own she is his betters), 
But if you '11 jine them twain, 
They '11 free him from his fetters. 

" And if so be as how 

You 11 let her come aboard ship, 
1 11 take her with me now." — 
** Gtet out ! " remarked his Lordghip. 



148 



THE "BAB'^ BALLADS. 




That honest tar repaired 
To Joe, upon the billow, 

And told him how he 'd fared : 
Joe only whispered, " Willow .' " 

And for that dreadful crime 
(Young sailors, learn to shun it) 

He 's working out his time : 
In ten years he '11 ha-j«5 done it. 




TO THE TEERESTRIAL GhOBh 

By a Miserable Wretch. 

Roll on, thou ball, roll on ! 
Through pathless realms of Space 

Roll on ! 
What though I 'm in a sorry case ? 
What though I cannot meet my bills ? 
What though I suffer toothache's ills ? 
What though I swallow countless pills ? 
Never you mind ! 

Roll on ! 

Roll on, thou ball, roll on ! 
Through seas of inky air 

Roll on ! 
It 's true I Ve got no shirts to wear ; 
It 's true my butcher's bill is due ; 
It 's true my prospects all look blue — 
But don't let that unsettle you ! 
Never you mind ! 

Roll on ! 

\It rolls OTi, 



ff-> 



GENTLE ALICE BROWN. 




It was a robber's daughter, and her name was Alice 

Brown, 
Her father was the terror of a small Italian town ; 
Her mother was a foolish, weak, but amiable old 

thing ; 
But it isn't of her parents that I 'm going for to 

sing. 



GENTLE ALICE BROWN', 151 

As Alice was a-sitting at her window-sill one day, 
A beautiful young gentleman he chanced to pass 

that way; 
She cast her eyes upon him, and he looked so good 

and true, 
That she thought, "I could be happy with a 

gentleman like you ! " 

And every morning passed her house that cream 

of gentlemen, 
She knew she might expect him at a quarter unto 

ten; 
A sorter in the Custom-house, it was his daily road 
(The Custom-house was fifteen minutes' walk from 

her abode). 

But Alice was a pious girl, who knew it wasn't 
wise 

To look at strange young sorters with expressive 
purple eyes ; 

So she sought the village priest to whom her 
family confessed. 

The priest by whom their little sins were care- 
fully assessed. 

" Oh, holy father," Alice said, " 't would grieve 

you, would it not. 
To discover that I was a most disreputable lot ? 
Of all unhappy sinners I 'm the most unhappy 

one ! " 
The padre said, " Whatever have you been and 

gone and done ? " 

"I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy 

from its dad, 
I 've assisted dear papa in cutting up a little lad, 
I 've planned a little burglary and forged a little 

cheque. 
And slain a little baby for the coral on its neck ! ^ 

The worthy pastor heaved a sigh, and dropped a 

silent tear, 
And said, "You mu:stn't judge yourself too heavily, 

my dear : 



152 



THE ''BAB" BALLADS. 



It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to 

fleece ; 
But sins like these one expiates at half-a-crown 

apiece. 

"Girls will be girls — you're very young, and 
flighty in your mind ; 

Old heads upon young shoulders we must not ex- 
pect to find : 

We mustn't be too hard upon these little girlish 
tricks. 

Let's see — five crimes at half-a-crown — exactly 
twelve-and-six." 

" Oh, father," little Alice cried, *' your kindness 
makes me weep. 

You do these little things for me so singularly 
cheap — 

Your thoughtful liberality I never can forget ; 

But, oh ! there is another crime I haven't men- 
tioned yet ! 

"A pleasant-looking gentleman, with pretty purple 

eyes, 
I 've noticed at my window, as 1 've sat a-catching 

flies; 
He passes by it every day as certain a? can be — 

1 blush to say I We winked at him, and he has winked at ree ! " 



H^ 




GENTLE ALICE BROWN. 153 

" For shame ! " said Father Paul, " my erring 

daughter ! On my word 
This is the most distressing news that I have ever 

heard. 
Wliy, naughty girl, your excellent papa has 

pledged your hand 
To a promising young robber, the lieutenant of 

his band ! 

" This dreadful piece of news will pain your 

worthy parents so ! 
They are the most remunerative customers I know; 
For many many years they've kept starvation 

from my doors : 
I never knew so criminal a family as yours ! 

" The common country folk in this insipid neigh- 
bourhood 

Have nothing to confess, they 're so ridiculously 
good; 

And if you marry any one respectable at all, 

Why, you '11 reform, and what will then become 
of Father Paul ? " 

The worthy priest, he up and drew his cowl upon 
his crown. 

And started off in haste to tell the news to Rob- 
ber Brown — 

To tell him how his daughter, who now was for 
marriage fit. 

Had winked upon a sorter, who reciprocated it. 

Good Robber Brown he muffled up his anger 

pretty well : 
He said, " I have a notion, and that notion I will 
I tell ; 
I will nab this gay young sorter, terrify him into 

fits, 
And get my gentle wife to chop him into little 

bits. 

" I 've studied human nature, and 1 know a thing 

or two ; 
Though a girl may fondly love a living gent, a» 
^ many do,.' 



154 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



A feeling of disgust upon her senses there will fall 
When she looks upon his body chopped particu- 
larly small." 

He traced that gallant sorter to a still suburban 
square ; 

He watched his opportunity, and seized him un- 
aware ; 

He took a life-preserver and he hit him on the 
head, 

And Mrs. Brown dissected him before she went 
to bed. 




And pretty little Alice grew more settled in her 

mind, 
She never more was guilty of a weakness of the 

kind. 
Until at length good Eobber Brown bestowed her 



pretty hand 
th€ 



On the promising young robber, the lieutenant of 
his band. 



MISTEE WILLIAM. 

Oh, listen to the tale of Mister William, if yon 

please. 
Whom naughty, naughty judges sent away beyond 

the seas. 
He forged a party's will, which caused anxiety and 

strife, 
Kesulting in his getting penal servitude for life. 

He was a kindly goodly man, and naturally prone, 
Instead of taking others' gold, to give away his 

own. 
But he had heard of Vice, and longed for only 

once to strike — 
To plan one little wickedness— to see what it waa 

like. 

He argued with himself, and said, "A spotless 

man am I ; 
I can't be more respectable, however hard I try ; 
For six and thirty years I 've always been as good 

as gold, 
And now for half an hour I '11 plan infamy untold ! 

" A baby who is wicked at the early age of one. 
And then reforms — and dies at thirty-six a spot- 
less son. 
Is never, never saddled with his babyhood's defect. 
But earns from worthy men consideration and 
respect. 

"So one who never revelled in discreditable tricKS 
Until he reached the comfortable age of thirty-six, 
May then for half an hour perpetrate a deed of 

shame. 
Without incurring permanent disgrace, or even 

blame. 



156 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

" That babies don't commit such crimes as forgery 
is true, 

But little sins develop, if you leave 'em to accrue ; 

And he who shuns all vices as successive seasons 
roll, 

Should reap at length the benefit of so much self- 
control. 

" The common sin of babyhood — objecting to be 

drest — 
If you leave it to accumulate at compound interest, 
For anything you know, may represent, if you 're 

alive, 
A burglary or murder at the age of thirty-five. 

" Still, I wouldn't take advantage of this fact, but 
be content 

With some pardonable folly — it 's a mere experi- 
ment. 

The greater the temptation to go wrong, the less 
the sin ; 

So with something that's particularly tempting 
I'll begin. 

" I would not steal a penny, for my income 's very 

fair — 
I do not want a penny — I have pennies and to 

spare — 
And if I stole a penny from a money-bag or till, 
The sin would be enormous — the temptation being 

nil. 

" But if I broke asunder all such pettifogging 

bounds. 
And forged a party's Will for (say) Five Hundred 

Thousand Pounds, 
With such an irresistible temptation to a haul, 
Of course the sin must be infinitesimally smalL 

" There 's Wilson who is dying — he has wealth 

from Stock and rent — 
If I divert his riches from their natural descent, 
I 'm placed in a position to indulge each little 

whim." 



MISTER WILLIAM. 



157 



So he diverted them — and they, in turn, diverted 
him. 

Unfortunately, though, by some unpardonable 

flaw, 
Temptation isn't recognized by Britain's Common 

Law ; 
Men found him out by some peculiarity of touch, 
And William got a " lifer," which annoyed him 

very much. 

For, ah ! he never reconciled himself to life in 
gaol, 

He fretted and he pined, and grew dispirited and 
pale; 

He was numbered like a cabman, too, which told 
upon him so 

That his spirits, once so buoyant, grew uncomfort- 
ably low. 

And sympathetic gaolers would remark, "It's very 

true. 
He ain't been brought up common, like the likes 

of me and„you," 
So, they took him into hospital, and gave him 

mutton chops. 
And chocolate, and arrowroot, and buns, and malt 

and hops. 




iss 



THE ^BAB'^ BALLADS. 



Kind clergymen, besides, grew interested in hia 

fate, 
Affected by the details of his pitiable state. 
They waited on the Secretary, somewhere in 

"Whitehall, 
Who said he would receive them any day they 

liked to call. 

" Consider, sir, the hardship of this interesting 

case : 
A prison life brings with it something very like 

disgrace ; 
It 's telling on young William, who 's reduced to 
■ skin and bone — 
Kemember he 's a gentleman, with money of his 

own. 

*' He had an ample income, and of course he stands 

in need 
Of sherry with his dinner, and his customary 

weed ; 
No delicacies now can pass his gentlemanly lips — 
He misses his sea-bathing and his continental trips. 

" He says the other prisoners are commonplace 

and rude ; 
He says he cannot relish uncongenial prison food. 
When quite a boy they taught him tc distinguish 

Good from Bad, 
And other educational advantages he 's had. 




MISTER WILLIAM, 



159 



" A burglar or garotter, or, indeed, a common ttief 
Is very glad to batten on potatoes and on beef. 
Or anything, in short, that prison kitchens can 

afford, — 
A cut above the diet in a common workhouse 

ward. 

" But beef and mutton-broth don't seem to suit 

our William's whim, 
A boon to other prisoners — a punishment to him. 
It never was intended that the discipline of gaol 
Should dash a convict's spirits, sir, or make him 

thin or pale." 

" Good Gracious Me !" that sympathetic Secretary 

cried, 
" Suppose in prison fetters Mister William should 

have died ! 
Dear me, of course ! Imprisonment for Life his 

sentence saith : 
I 'm very glad you mentioned it — it might have 

been for Death ! 

" Release him with a ticket — he '11 be better then, 

no doubt, 
And tell him I apologize." So Mister William 's 

out. 
I hope he will be careful in his manuscripts, I 'm 

sure, 
And not begin experimentalizing any more. 




BEN ALLAH ACHMET; 

Or, The Fatal Tum. 

I ONCE did know a Turkish man 
Whom 1 upon a two-pair-back met, 

His name it was Effendi Khan 
Backsheesh Pasha Ben Allah Achmet. 




:fi(Ur 



A Doctor Brown I also knew — 

I 've often eaten of his bounty ; 
The Turk and he they lived at Hooe 
j In Sussex, that delightful county ! 

I knew a nice young lady there, 

Her name was Isabella Sherson, 
And though she wore another's hair, 

She was an interesting person. 

The Turk adored the maid of Hooe 

(Although his harem would have shocked her) | 
But Brown adored that maiden too : 

He was a most seductive doctor. 

They 'd follow her where'er she 'd go- 
A course of action most improper ; 

She neither knew by sight, and so 
For neither of them cared a copper. 



BEN ALLAH A CHME T. i6x 

Brown did not know that Turkish male, 
He might have been his sainted mother : 

The people in this simple tale 
Are total strangers to each other. 

One day that Turk he sickened sore, 

Which threw him straight into a sharp pet ; 

He threw himself upon the floor 
And rolled about upon his — carpet. 

It made him moan — it made him groan. 
And almost wore him to a mummy : 

Why should I hesitate to own 

That pain was in his little tummy? 

At length a doctor came, and rung 

(As Allah Achmet had desired), 
Wlio felt his pulse, looked up his tongue, 

And hummeu and hawed, and then inquired : 

" Where is the pain that long has preyed 

Upon you in so sad a way, sir ? " 
The Turk he giggled, blushed, and said, 

" I don't exactly like to say, sir." 

" Come, nonsense ! " said good Doctor Brown. 

" So this is Turkish coyness, is it ? 
You must contrive to fight it down — 

Come, come, sir, please to be explicit." 

The Turk he shyly bit his thumb, 

And coyly blushed like one half-witted, 

'' The pain is in my little turn," 

He, whispering, at length admitted. 

" Then take you this, and take you that — 
Your blood flows sluggish in its channel — 

You must get rid of all this fat, 
And wear my medicated flannel. 

" You '11 send for me, when you 're in need— 
My name is Brown — your life I 've saved it." 

" My rival ! " shrieked the invalid, 

Ajid drew a mighty sword and waved it : 



l62 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

" This to thy weazand, Christian pest I " 
Aloud the Turk in frenzy yelled it, 

And drove right through the doctor's chest 
The sabre and the hand that held it. 




The blow was a decisive one, 

And Doctor Brown grew deadly pasty. 
" Now see the mischief that you 've done, — 

You Turks are so extremely hasty. 

" There are two Doctor Browns in Hooe — 
Ke 's short and stout — / 'm tall and wizen ; 

You 've been and run the wrong one through, 
That 's how the error has arisen." 

The accident was thus explained. 

Apologies were only heard now : 
" At my mistake I 'm really pained, 

I am, indeed, upon my word now. 

" With me, sir, you shall be interred, 
A mausoleum grand awaits me." — 

" Oh, pray don't say another word, 

I 'm sure that more than compensates me. 

" But p'r'aps, kind Turk, you 're full inside ?" 
" There 's room," said he, " for any number." 

And so they laid them down and died. 

In proud Stamboul they sleep their slumber. 



THE BUMBOAT WOMAN'S STOUT. 

I 'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and 

work, and grief, 
My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn 

by Time, the Thief ! 
For terrible sights I 've seen, and dangers great 

I 've run — 
I 'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost 

done. 

Ah ! I 've been young in my time, and I've played 

the deuce with men ! 
I 'm speaking of ten years past — I was barely sixty 

then : 
My cheeks were mellow and soft, and my eyes 

were large and sweet. 
Poll Pineapple's eyes were the standing toast of 

the Royal Fleet. 

A bumboat woman was I, and I faithfully served 

the ships 
With apples and cakes, and fowls a.id beer, and 

halfpenny dips, 
And beef for the generous mess, where the ofl&cers 

dine at nights. 
And fine fresh peppermint drops for the rollicking 

midshipmites. 



i64 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




Of all the kind commanders who anchored in 

Portsmouth Bay, 
By far the sweetest of all was kind Lieutenant 

Belaye. 
Lieutenant Belaye commanded the gunboat, Hot 

Cross Bun, 
She was seven and thirty feet in length, and she 

carried a gun. 

With the laudable view of enhancing his country's 

naval pride, 
When people inquired her size, Lieutenant Belaye 

replied, 
*' Oh, my ship, my ship is the first of the Hundred 

and Seventy-ones ! " 
Which meant her tonnage, but people imagined it 

meant her guns. 

Whenever I went on board he would beckon me 

down below, 
"Come down. Little Buttercup, come" (for he 

loved to call me so). 
And he 'd tell of the fights at sea in which he 'd 

taken a part. 



THE BUM BO AT WOMAN'S STORY. 165 

And so Lieutenant Belaye won poor Poll Pine- 
apple's heart ! 

Bat at length his orders came, and he said one 

day, said he, 
" I 'm ordered to sail with the Hot Cross Bun to 

the German Sea." 
And the Portsmouth maidens wept when they 

learnt the evil day, 
' For every Portsmouth maid loved good Lieutenant 

Belaye. 

And I went to a back back street, with plenty of 

cheap cheap shops, 
And I bought an oilskin hat, and a second-hand 

suit of slops, 
And I went to Lieutenant Belaye (and he never 

suspected me !) 
And I entered myself as a chap as wanted to go 

to sea. 

We sailed that afternoon at the mystic hour of 

one, — 
Remarkably nice young men were the crew of the 

Hot Gross Bun. 
I 'm sorry to say that I 've heard that sailors 

sometimes swear, 
But I never yet heard a Bun say anything wrong, 

I declare. 

When Jack Tars meet, they meet with a " Mess- 
mate, ho ! What cheer ? " 

But here, on the Hot Gross Bun, it was " How do 
you do, my dear ? " 

When Jack Tars growl, I believe they growl with 
a big big D— , 

But the strongest oath of the Hot Gross Bun was a 
mild " Dear me ! " 



i66 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




Yet, though they were all well-bred, you could 

scarcely call them slick : 
Whenever a sea was on, they were all extremely 

sick ; 
And whenever the weather was calm, and the 

wind was light and fair, 
They spent more time than a sailor should on his 

back back hair. 

They certainly shivered and shook when ordered 
aloft to run, 

And they screamed when Lieutenant Belaye dis- 
charged his only gun. 

And as he was proud of his gun — such pride is 
hardly wrong — 

The Lieutenant was blazing away at intervals all 
day long. 

They all agreed very well, though at times you 

heard it said 
That Bill had a way of his own of making his lips 

look red — 
That Joe looked quite his age— or somebody might 

declare 
That Barnacle's long pig-tail was never his own 

own hair. 



THE BUM BO AT WOMAN'S STORY. 167 

Belaye would admit that his men were of no great 
use to him, 

" But then," he would say, " there is little to do 
on a gumboat trim. 

I can hand, and reef, and steer, and fire my big 
gun too — 

And it 18 such a treat to sail with a gentle well- 
bred crew." 

I saw him every day ! How the happy moments 

sped ! 
Keef topsails ! Make all taut ! There 's dirty 

weather ahead ! 
(I do not mean that tempests threatened the Hot 

Gross Bun : 
In tliat case, I don't know whatever we should 

have done !) 

After a fortnight's cruise, we put into port one day, 
And off on leave for a week went kind Lieutenant 

Belaye, 
And after a long long week had passed (and it 

seemed like a life). 
Lieutenant Belaye returned to his ship with a fair 

young wife ! 

He up, and he says, says he, " O crew of the Hot 

Cross Bun, 
Here is the wife of my heart, for the Church has 

made us one ! " 
And as he uttered the word, the crew went out of 

their wits. 
And all fell down in so many separate fainting tits. 

And then their hair came down, or oflF, as the case 

might be. 
And lo ! the rest of the crew were simple girls, 

like me. 
Who all had fled from their homes in a sailor's 

blue array, 
To follow the shifting fate of kind Lieutenant 

Belaye. 



1 63 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




***** 

It 's strange to think that I should ever have loved 

young men, 
But I 'm speaking of ten years past — I was barely 

sixty then, 
And now my cheeks are furrowed with grief and 

age, I trow ! 
And poor Poll Pineapple's eyes have lost their 

lustre now ! 



THE TWO OGEES. 

Good children, list, if you 're inclined. 

And wicked children too — 
This pretty ballad is designed 

Especially for you. 

Two ogres dwelt in Wickham Wold, 

One grown up— one a lad : 
The younger was as good as gold, 

The elder one was bad. 

A wicked, disobedient son 

Was James Mc Alpine, and 
A contrast to the younger one, 

Good Applebody Bland. 

Mc Alpine— brutes like him are few — 

In greediness delights, 
A melancholy victim to 

Unchastened appetites. 

Good, well-bred children every day 

He ravenously ate, — 
All boys were fish who found thier way 

Into Mc Alpine's net : 




I70 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Boys whose good breeding is innate, 
Whose sums are always right ; 

And boys who don't expostulate 
When sent to bed at night ; 

And kindly boys who never search 
The nests of birds of song ; 

And serious boys for whom, in church, 
No sermon is too long. 

Contrast with James's greedy haste 

And comprehensive hand, 
The nice discriminating taste 

Of Applebody Bland. 

Bland only eats bad boys, who swear — 
Who can behave, but dorUt — 

Disgraceful lads who say " don't care," 
And "shan't," and "can't," and "won't." 

Who wet their shoes and learn to box, 

And say what isn't true. 
Who bite their nails and jam their frocks, 

And make long noses too ; 



Who kick a nurse's aged shin, 

And sit in sulky mopes ; 
And boys who twirl poor kittens in 

Distracting zoetropes. 



THE TWO OGRES, 171 

But James, before lie grew so big, 

Had often been to scbool, 
And though, of course, a reckless pig, 

He wasn't quite a fool. 

At logic few with him could vie ; 

To his peculiar sect 
He could propose a fallacy 

With singular effect. 

So, when his Mentors said, " You hound, 
Why eat good children — why ? " 

Upon his Mentors he would round 
With this absurd reply : 

" I have been taught to love the good— 
The pure — the unalloyed — 
And wicked boys, I 've understood, 
I always should avoid. 

" Why do I eat good children — why ? 
Because I love them so ! " 
(But this was empty sophistry, 
As your Papa can show.) 

Now, though the learning of his friends 

Was truly not immense, 
They had a way of fitting ends 

By rule of common sense. 

" Away, away ! " his Mentors cried, 
" Thou uncongenial pest ! 
A quirk 's a thing we can't abide, 
A quibble we detest ! 

" A fallacy in your reply 
Our intellect descries, 
Although we don't pretend to spy 
Exactly where it lies. 

" In misery, unworthy son. 
Must end a glutton's joys ; 
And learn how ogres punish one 
Who dares to eat good boys. 

" Secured by fetter, cramp, and chain. 
And gagged securely — so — 



172 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 




You shall be placed in Drury Lane, 
Where only good lads go. 

*' Surrounded there by virtuous boys, 
You '11 suffer torture wus 
Than that which constantly annoys 
Disgraceful Tantalus. 

(" If you would learn the woes that vex 

Poor Tantalus, down there, 
Pray borrow of Papa an ex- 

Purgated Lempriere.) 

" But as for Applebody Bland, 
Who only eats the bad, 
A fitting recompense we 've planned 
For that deserving lad. 

** Where naughty boys in crowds are stowed 
He shall unquestioned rule, 
And have the run of Hackney Road 
Reformatory School." 



LITTLE OLIVEE. 

Earl Joyce lie was a kind old party 
Whom nothing ever could put out ; 

Though eighty-two, he still was hearty, 
Excepting as regarded gout. 

He had one unexampled daughter, 

The Lady Minnie-haha Joyce, 
Fair Minnie-haha, " Laughing Water," 

So called from her melodious voice. 

By Nature planned for lover-capture, 
Her beauty every heart assailed ; 

The good old nobleman with rapture 
Observed how widely she prevailed. 

Aloof from all the lordly flockings 
Of titled swells who worshipped her. 

There stood in pumps and cotton stockings, 
One humble lover — Oliver. 

He was no peer by Fortune petted. 
His name recalled no bygone age ; 

He was no lordling coronetted — 
Alas ! he was a simple page ! 

With vain appeals he never bored her, 
But stood in silent sorrow by — 

He knew how fondly he adored her. 
And knew, alas ! how hopelessly ! 

Well grounded by a village tutor 

In languages alive and past, 
He 'd say unto himself, " Knee -suitor, 

Oh, do not go beyond your last ! " 



174 THE ''BAB" BALLADS, 

But though his name could boast no handle 
He could not every hope resign ; 

As moths will hover round a candle, 
So hovered he about her shrine. 

The brilliant candle dazed the moth well: 
One day she sang to her Papa 

The air that Marie sings with Both well 
In Neidermeyer's opera. 

(Therein a stable boy, it 's stated, 
Devoutly loved a noble dame, 

And that the dame reciprocated 
His rather injudicious flame.) 




^ 



And then, before the piano closing 
(He listened coyly at the door) 

She sang a song of her composing — 
I give one verse from half a score : 

Ballad. 

Why^ pretty page, art ever sighing f 
Is sorroiv in thy heartlet lying ? 
Come, set a-ringing 

Thy laugh entrancing^ 
And ever singing 

And ever dancing. 
Ever singing, Tra ! la ! la ! 
Ever dancing, Tra I la ! la ! 

Ever singing, ever dancing. 

Ever singing, Tra ! la ! la t 



LITTLE OLIVER, 175 

He skipped for joy like little muttons, 
He danced like Esmeralda's kid 

(She did not mean a boy in buttons, 
Although he fancied that she did). 

Poor lad ! convinced he thus would win her, 
He wore out many pairs of soles ; 

He danced when taking down the dinner — 
He danced when bringing up the coals. 




He danced and sang (however laden) 
With his incessant " Tra ! la ! la ! " 

Which much surprised the noble maiden, 
And puzzled even her Papa. 

He nourished now his flame and fanned it 
He even danced at work below. 

At length the servants wouldn't stand it, 
Ajid Bowles the butler told him so. 




176 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

At length on impulse acting blindly, 
His love he laid completely bare ; 

The gentle Earl received him kindly, 
And told the lad to take a chair. 

*' Oh, sir," the suitor uttered sadly, 
*' Don't give your indignation vent ; 
I fear you think I 'm acting madly, 
Perhaps you think me insolent ? " 

The kindly Earl repelled the notion ; 

His noble bosom heaved a sigh, 
His fingers trembled with emotion, 

A tear stood in his mild blue eye. 

For, oh ! the scene recalled too plainly 
The half-forgotten time when he, 

A boy of nine, had worshipped vainly 
A governess of forty-three ! 

" My boy," he said, his hands still wringing, 
" Give up this idle fancy — do — 
The ballad that you heard her singing 
Did not, indeed, refer to you. 

" I feel for you, poor boy, acutely ; 
I would not wish to give you pain ; 
Your pangs I estimate minutely, — 
I, too, have loved, and loved in vain. 

** But still your humble rank and station 
For Minnie surely are not meet." 
He said much more in conversation 
Which it were needless to repeat. 




LITTLE OLIVER. 177 

Now I 'm prepared to bet a guinea, 
Were this a mere dramatic case, 

The page would have eloped with Minnie, 
But, no — he only left his place. 

The simple Truth is my detective, 
With me Sensation can't abide ; 

The Likely beats the mere Ejffective, 
And Nature is my only guide. 



i. 



PASHA BAILEY BEN. 




A PROUD Pasha was Bailey Ben, 
His wives were three, his tails were ten, 
His form was dignified, but stout, 
Men called him " Little Eoundabout." 

His Imp(ytiance. 

Pale Pilgrims came from o'er the sea 
To wait on Pasha Bailey B., 
All bearing presents in a crowd, 
For B. was poor as well as proud. 

His Presents. 

They brought him onions strung on ropes, 
And cold boiled beef, and telescopes. 
And balls of string, and shrimps, and guns, 
And chops, and tacks, and hats, and buns. 

More of them. 

They brought him white kid gloves, and pails, 
And candlesticks, and potted quails, 
And capstan-bars, and scales and weights. 
And ornaments for empty grates. 



PASHA BAILEY BEN. 

Wliy I mention these. 

My tale is not of these — oh, no ! 
I only mention them to show 
The divers gifts that divers men 
Brought o'er the sea to Bailey Ben. 

His Confidant. 

A confidant had Bailey B., 
A gay Mongolian dog was he ; 
I am not good at Turkish names, 
And so I call him Simple James. 

His Confidantes Countenance. 

A dreadful legend you might trace 
In Simple James's honest face* 



179 




i8o THE '' BAB'' BALLADS. 

For there you read, in Nature's printj 
"A Scoundrel of the Deepest Tint." 

Kis Character, 

A deed of blood, or fire, or flames, 
Was meat and drink to Simple James. 
To hide his guilt he did not plan, 
But owned himself a bad young man. 

The Author to his Reader. 

And why on earth good Bailey Ben 
(The wisest, noblest, best of men) 
Made Simple James his right-hand man 
Is quite beyond my mental span. 

The samCf continued. 

But there — enough of gruesome deeds ! 
My heart, in thinking of them, bleeds 
And so let Simple James take wing, — 
'T is not of him I 'm going to sing. 

The Pashah Clerk. 

Good Pasha Bailey kept a clerk 
(For Bailey only made his mark), 
His name was Matthew Wycombe Coo, 
A man of nearly forty-two. 

His Accomplishments. 

No person that I ever knew 
Could " yodel " half as well as Coo ; 
And Highlanders exclaimed, "Ah, weel J* 
When Coo began to dance a reel. 

His Kindness to the Pasha^s Wives, 

He used to dance and sing and play 
In such an unaffected way. 
He cheered the unexciting lives 
Of Pasha Bailey's lovely wives. 



PASHA BAILEY BEN. 



i8i 




The Author io his Reader. 

But why should I encumber you 
With histories of Matthew Coo ? 
Let Matthew Coo at once take wing, — 
'T is not of Coo 1 'm going to sing. 

The Authoi^s Muse. 

Let me recall my wandering Muse ; 
She shall be steady if I choose — 
She roves, instead of helping me 
To tell the deeds of Bailey B. 

One morning knocked, at half- past eight, 
A tall Red Indian at his gate. 
In Turkey, as you 're p'r'aps aware. 
Red Indians are extremely rare. 

Mocassins decked his graceful legs. 
His eyes were black, and round as eggs, 
And on his neck, instead of beads, 
Hung several Catawampous seeds. 

" Ho, ho ! " he said, " thou pale-faced one, 
Poor offspring of an Eastern sun. 
You 've never seen the Red Man skip 
Upon the banks of Mississip ! " 



l82 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

To say that Bailey oped his eyes 
"Would feebly paint his great surprise — 
To say it almost made him die 
Would be to paint it much too high. 

But why should I ransack my head 
To tell you all that Indian said ? 
We 11 let the Indian man take wing, — 
'T is not of him 1 'm going to sing. 

Title Reader to the Author. 

Come, come, I say, that 's quite enough 
Of this absurd disjointed stuff ; 
Now let 's get on to that affair 
About Lieutenant-Colonel Flare. 




LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELAEE. 




The earth has armies plenty, 
And semi- warlike bands, 

I dare say there are twenty 
In European lands ; 

But, oh ! in no direction 

You 'd find one to compare 
In brotherly affection 

With that of Colonel Flare. 

His soldiers might be rated 

As military Pearls : 
As unsophisticated 

As pretty little girls ! 
They never smoked or ratted, 

Or talk of Sues or Polls ; 
The Sergeant-Major tatted, 

The others nursed their dolls. 



i84 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

He spent the days in teaching 

These truly solemn facts : 
There 's little use in preaching, 

Or circulating tracts. 
(The vainest plan invented 

For laying other creeds, 
Unless it 's supplemented 

With charitable deeds.) 

He taught his soldiers kindly 

To give at Hunger's call : 
" Oh, better far give blindly 

Than never give at all. 
Though sympathy be kindled 

By Imposition's game, 
Oh, better far be swindled 

Than smother up its flame." 

His means were far from ample 

For pleasure or for dress. 
Yet note this bright example 

Of single-heartedness : 
Though ranking as a Colonel, 

His pay was but a groat, 
While their reward diurnal 

Was — each a five-pound note. 

Moreover, — this evinces 

His kindness, you '11 allow, — 
He fed them all like princes, 

And lived himself on cow. 
He set them all regaling 

On curious wines, and dear, 
While he would sit pale-ale-ing 

Or quaffing ginger-beer. 

Then at his instigation 

(A pretty fancy this) 
Their daily pay and ration 

They 'd always change for his ; 
They brought it to him weekly, 

And he without a groan 
Would take it from them meekly, 

And give them all his own ! 



LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FLARE. 1B5 



Though not exactly knighted 

As knights, of course, should be, 
Yet no one so delighted 

In harmless chivalry. 
If peasant girl or ladye 

Beneath misfortunes sank, 
Whate'er distinctions made he, 

They were not those of rank. 




No maiden young and comely 

Who wanted good advice 
(However poor or homely) 

Need ask him for it twice. 

He 'd wipe away the blindness 

That comes of teary dew ; 
His sympathetic kindness 

No sort of limit knew. 

He always hated dealing 

With men who schemed or planned 
A person harsh — unfeeling — 

The Colonel could not stand. 
He hated cold, suspecting. 

Official men in blue, 
Who pass their lives detecting 

The crimes that others do. 



i86 



J'HE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




For men who 'd shoot a sparrow, 

Or immolate a worm 
Beneath a farmer's harrow, 

He could not find a term. 
Humanely, ay, and knightly 

He dealt with such an one ; 
He took and tied him tightly, 

And blew him from a gun. 

The earth has armies plenty, 

And semi-warlike bands, 
I 'm certain there are twenty 

In European lands ; 
But, oh ! in no direction 

You 'd find one to compare 
In brotherly affection 

With that of Colonel Flare. 



LOST ME. BLAKE. 




Mr. Blake was a regular out-and-out hardened 

sinner, 
Who was quite out of the pale of Christianity, 

so to speak. 
He was in the habit of smoking a long pipe and 

drinking a glass of grog on Sunday after 

dinner. 
And seldom thought of going to church more 

than twice or— if Good Friday or Christmas 

Day happened to come in it— three times a 

week. 

He was quite indifferent as to the special kinds of 
dresses 
That the clergyman wore at the church where 
he used to go to pray, 
And whatever he did in the way of relieving a 
chap's distresses, 
He always did in a sneaking, underhanded, 
hole-and-corner sort of way. 

I have known him indulge in profane, ungentle- 
manly emphatics. 
When the Protestant Church has been divided 
on the subject of the proper width of a 
chasuble's hem i ., 



i88 THE ''BAB" BALLADS. 

I liave even known Jiim to sneer at albs — and as 
for dalmatics, 
Words can't convey an idea of the contempt he 
expressed for theini. 

He didn't believe in persons who, not being well 
off themselves, are obliged to confine their 
charitable exertions to collecting money 
from wealthier people, 
And looked upon individuals of the former class 
as ecclesiastical hawks ; 

He used to say that he would no more think of 
interfering with his priest's robes than with 
his church or his steeple, 
And that he did not consider his soul imperilled 
because somebody over whom he had no 
influence whatever, chose to dress himself 
up like an exaggerated Guy Fawkes. 

This shocking old vagabond was so unutterably 
shameless 
That he actually went a-courting a very respec- 
table and piouK middle-aged sister, by the 
name of Biggs. 

She was a rather attractive widow, whose life as 
such had always been particularly blame- 
less ; 
Her first husband had left her a secure but 
moderate competence owing to some fortu- 
nate speculations in the matter of figs. 

She was an excellent person in every way — and 
won the respect even of Mrs. Grundy, 
She was a good housewife, too, and wouldn't 
have wasted a penny if she had owned the 
Koh-i-noor. 

She was just as strict as he was lax in her obser- 
vance of Sunday, 
And being a good economist, and charitable 
besides, she took all the bones and cold 
potatoes and broken pie-crusts and candle- 
ends (when she had quite done with them), 
and made them into an excellent soup for 
the deserving poor. 



LOST MR. BLAKE. 189 

I am sorry to say that she rather took to Blake — 
that outcast of society, 
And when respectable brothers who were fond 
of her began to look dubious and to cough, 
She would say, " Oh, my friends, it 's because T 
hope to bring this poor benighted soul back 
to virtue and propriety," 
And, besides, the poor benighted soul, with all 
his faults, was uncommonly well off. 

And when Mr. Blake's dissipated friends called his 
attention to the frown or the pout of her, 
AVhenever he did anything which appeared to 
her to savour of an unmentionable place, 
He would say she would be a very decent old girl 
when all that nonsense was knocked out 
of her. 
And his method of knocking it out of he;' is one 
that covered him with disgrace. 

She was fond of going to church services four 
times every Sunday, and four or five times 
in the week, and never seemed to pall of 
them. 
So he hunted out all the churches within a con- 
venient distance that had services at diffe- 
rent hours, so to speak ; 

And when he had married her he positively in- 
sisted upon their going to all of them. 



.:«:^YKK\-n 




igo THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

So they contrived to do about twelve churches 
every Sunday, and, if they had luck, from 
twenty-two to twenty-three in the course 
of the week. 

She was fond of dropping his sovereigns osten- 
tatiously into the plate, and she liked to 
see them stand out rather conspicuously 
against the commonplace half-crowns and 
shillings. 

So he took her to all the charity sermons, and 
if by any extraordinary chance there wasn't 
a charity sermon anywhere, he would drop 
a couple of sovereigns (one for him and 
one for her) into the poor-box at the door ; 
And as he always deducted the sums thus given 
in charity from the housekeeping money, 
and the money he allowed her for her bon- 
nets and frillings. 

She soon begun to Unci that even charity, if you 
allow it to interfere with your personal 
luxuries, becomes an intolerable bore. 

On Sundays she was always melancholy and any- 
thing but good society. 
For that day in her household was a day of 
sighings and sobbings and wringing of 
hands and shaking of heads : 

She wouldn't hear of a button being sewn on a 
glove, because it was a work neither of 
necessity nor of piety, 
And strictly prohibited her servants from amus- 
ing themselves, or indeed doing anything 
at all except dusting the drawing-rooms, 
cleaning the boots and shoes, cooking the 
parlour dinner, waiting generally on the 
family, and making the beds. 

But Blake even went further than that, and said 
that people should do their own works of 
necessity, and not delegate them to persons 
in a menial situation. 
So he wouldn't allow his servants to do so much 
as even answer a bell. 



LOST MR. BLAKE. 



191 



Here he is making his wife carry up the water for 
her bath to the second floor, much against 
her inclination, — 
And why in the world the gentleman who 
illustrates these ballads has put him in a 
cocked hat is more than I can tell. 




After about three months of this sort of thing, 
taking the smooth with the rough, of it 
(Blacking her own boots and peeling her own 
potatoes was not her notion of connubial 
bliss), 
Mrs. Blake began to find that she had pretty 
nearly had enough of it, 
And came, in course of time, to think that 



Blake's own original line of conduct wasn't 
so much amiss. 



And 



now that wicked person — that detestable 
sinner ("Belial Blake" his friends and 
well-wishers call him for his atrocities). 

And his poor deluded victim whom all her 
Christian brothers dislike and pity so, 
Go to the parish church only on Sunday morning 
and afternoon and occasionally on a week- 
day, and spend their evenings in connubial 
fondlings and affectionate reciprocities, 

And I should like to know where in the world 
(or rather, out of it) they expect to go ! 



THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. 

Weary at heart and extremely ill 
Was Paley VoUaire of Bromptonville. 
In a dirty lodging, with fever down, 
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town. 

Paley VoUaire was an only son 
(For why ? His mother had had but one), 
And Paley herited gold and grounds 
Worth several hundred thousand pounds. 

But he, like many a rich young man, 
Through this magnificent fortune ran, 
And nothing was left for his daily needs 
But duplicate copies of mortgage-deeds. 

Shabby and sorry and sorely sick. 
He slept, and dreamt that the clock's " tick, tick," 
Was one of the Fates, with a long sharp knife, 
Snicking off bits of his shortened life. 

He woke and counted the pips on the walls, 
The outdoor passengers' loud footfalls. 
And reckoned all over, and reckoned again. 
The little white tufts on his counterpane. 

A medical man to his bed-side came 
(I can't remember that doctor's name), 
And said, " You '11 die in a very short while 
If you don't set sail for Madeira's isle." 



THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. 



193 



" Go to Madeira % goodness me ! 

I haven't the money to pay your fee ! " 
" Then, Paley Vollaire," said the leech, "good bye; 

1 11 come no more, for you 're sure to die."' 




He sighed and he groaned and smote his breast ; 
" Oh, send," said he, " for Frederick West, 
Ere senses fade or my eyes grow dim : 
I 've a terrible tale to whisper him." 

Poor was Frederick's lot in life, — 
A dustman he wdth a fair young wife, 
A worthy man with a hard-earned store, 
A hundred and seventy pounds — or more. 

Frederick came, and he said, " Maybe 
You '11 say what you happen to want with me ?" 
" Wronged boy," said Paley Vollaire. " I will, 
But don't you fidget yourself— sit still. 

" T is now some thirty-seven years ago 

Since first began the plot that I 'm revealing, 

A fine young woman, whom you ought to know, 
Lived with her husband down in Drum Lane, 
Ealing. 

Herself by means of mangling reimbursing, 

And now and then (at intervals) wet-nursing. 



194 



THE '^BAB'' BALLADS. 




" Two little babes dwelt in her humble cot ; 

One was her own — the other only lent to her : 
Her own she slighted. Tempted by a lot 

Of gold and silver regularly sent to her, 
She ministered unto the little other 
In the capacity of foster-mother. 

" I was her own. Oh ! how 1 lay and sobbed 
In my poor cradle — deeply, deeply cursing 

The ricli man's pampered bantling, who had robbed 
My only birthright— an attentive nursing ! 

Sometimes, in hatred of my foster-brother, 

I gnashed my gums — which terrified my mother. 




" One day — it was quite early in the week — 
I in MY cradle having placed the bantling — 

Crept into his ! He had not learnt to speak. 
But I could see his face with anger mantliig. 

It was imprudent — well, disgraceful maybe, 

For, oh ! I was a bad, black-hearted baby. 



THE BABY'S VENGEANCE. 195 

" So great a luxury was food, I think 
No wickedness but I was game to try for it. 

N(m if I wanted anything to drink 
At any time, I only had to cry for it ! 

Once^ if I dared to weep, the bottle lacking, 

My blubbering involved a serious smacking ! 

" We grew up in the usual way — my friend, 
My foster-brother, daily growing thinner, 

While gradually I began to mend, 

And thrived amazingly on double dinner. 

And every one, besides my foster-mother, 

Believed that either of us was the other. 

" I came into his wealth — I bore his name, 
I bear it still — his property I squandered — 

I mortgaged everything — and now (oh, shame !) 
IntoaSomers Town shake-down I Ve wandered. 

I am no Paley — no Vollaire — it 's true, my boy ! 

The only rightful Paley V. is i/ow, my boy ! 

"And all I have is yours — and yours is mine. 

I still may place you in your true position : 
(jrive me the pounds you 've saved, and I '11 resign 

My noble name, my rank, and my condition. 
So far my wickedness in falsely owning 
Your vasty wealth, I am at last atoning 1 " 



Frederick he was a simple soul. 
He pulled from his pocket a bulky roll, 
And gave to Paley his hard-earned store, 
A hundred and seventy pounds or more. 

Paley Vollaire, with many a groan, 
Gave Frederick all that he 'd called his own — 
Two shirts and a sock, and a vest of jean, 
A Wellington boot and a bamboo cane. 

And Fred (entitled to ajl things there) 
He took the fever from Mr. Vollaire, 
Which killed poor Frederick West, Meanwhile 
A^ollaire sailed off to Madeira's isle. 



THE CAPTAIN AND THE 
MERMAIDS. 

I SING a legend of the sea, 
So hard-a-port upon your lee ! 

A ship on starboard tack ! 
She 's bound upon a private cruise — 
(This is the kind of spice I use 

To give a salt-sea smack). 

Behold, on every afternoon 

(Save in a gale or strong Monsoon) 

Great Captain Capel Cleggs 
(Great morally, though rather short) 
Sat at an open weather-port 

And aired his shapely legs. 

And Mermaids hung around in flocks, 
On cable chains and distant rocks, 
To gaze upon those limbs ; 
For legs like those, of flesh and bone, 
Are things " not generally known "' 
To any Merman Timbs. 

But Mermen didn't seem to care 
Much time (as far as 1 'm aware) 

With Cleggs's legs to spend ; 
Though Mermaids swam around all day 
And gazed, exclaiming, "That 's the way 

A gentleman should end ! 

" A pair of legs with well-cut knees, 
And calves and ankles such as these. 

Which we in rapture hail, 
Are far more eloquent, it 's clear, 
When clothed in silk and kerseymere, 

Than any nasty tail." 



THE CAPTAIN AND MERMAIDS. 197 




And Cleggs — a worthy kind old boy — • 

Rejoiced to add to others' joy 

And (though he scarce knew why) 

Because it pleased the lookers-on, 

He sat there every day — though con- 
stitutionally shy. 

At first the Mermen laughed a few, 
But finally they jealous grew, 

And sounded loud recalls ; 
But vainly. So these fishy males 
Declared they too would clothe their tails 

In silken hose and smalls. 

They set to work, these water-men. 
And made their nether robes ; but when 

They drew with dainty touch 
The kerseymere upon their tails, 
They found it scraped against their scales, 

And hurt them very much. 

The silk, besides, with which they chose 
To deck their tails, by way of hose 
(They never thought of shoon), 



198 THE '* BAB'' BALLADS. 

For such a use was mucli too thin, — 
It tore against the caudal fin 

And " went in ladders " soon. 

So they designed another plan : 
They sent their most seductive man 

This note to him to show — 
" Our Monarch sends to Captain Cleggs 
His humble compliments, and begs 

He '11 join him down below ; 

" We 've pleasant homes below the sea — 
Besides, if Captain Cleggs should be 

(As our advices say) 
A judge of Mermaids, he will find 
Our lady-fish of every kind 

Inspection will repay." 

Good Capel sent a kind reply, 
For Capel thought he could descry 

An admirable plan 
To study all their ways and laws — 
(But not their lady-fish, because 

He was a married man)! 

The Merman sank — the Captain too 
Jumped overboard, and dropped from view^ 

Like stone from catapult ; 
And when he reached the Mermen's lair 
He certainly was welcomed there, 

But, ah ! with what result ? 

They didn't let him learn their law, 
Or make a note of what he saw, 

Or interesting mem. : 
The lady-fish he couldn't find, 
But that, of course, he didn't mind — 

He didn't come for them. 

For though, when Captain Capel sank, 
The Mermen drawn in double rank 

Gave him a hearty hail ; 
Yet when secure of Captain Cleggs, 
They cut off both his lovely legs, 

And gave him swc/i a tail ! 



THE CAPTAIN AND MERMAIDS. 199 

When Captain Cleggs returned aboard, 
His blithesome crew convulsive roar'd 

To see him altered so 
The Admiralty did insist 
That he upon the Half-pay List 

Immediately should go. 




In vain declared the poor old salt, 
" It 's my misfortune — not my fault," 
With tear and trembling lip — 
In vain poor Capel begged and begged. 
" A man must be completely legged 
Who rules a British ship." 

So spake the stern First Lord aloud — 
He was a wag, though very proud, 

And much rejoiced to say, 
" You 're only half a captain now — . 
And so, my worthy friend, I vow 

You '11 only get half -pay !" 



ANNIE PEOTHEEOE. 

A Legend of Stratford-le-Bow. 

Oh ! listen to the tale of little Annie Protheroe. 
She kept a small post-office in the neighbourhood 

of Bow; 
She loved a skilled mechanic, who was famous in 

his day — 
A gentle executioner whose name was Gilbert 

Clay. 

I think I hear you say, " A dreadful subject for 

for your rhymes ! " 
reader, do not shrink — he didn't live in modern 

times ! 
He lived so long ago (the sketch will show it at a 

glance) 
That all his actions glitter with the lime-light of 

Romance. 




ANNIE PROTHEROE. 201 

In busy times he laboured at his gentle craft all 
day — 

"No doubt you mean his Cal-craft" you amua- 

mgly will say- 
But, no— he didn't operate with common bits of 

string, 

He was a Public Headsman, which is quite another 
thing. 

And when his work was over, they would ramble 
o'er the lea, 

And sit beneath the frondage of an elderberry 
tree. "^ 

And Annie's simple prattle entertained him on 
his walk, 

For public executions formed the subject of her 
talk. 

And sometimes he'd explain to her, which charmed 

her very much, 
How famous operators vary very much in touch, 
And then, perhaps, he 'd show how he himself 

performed the trick, 
And illustrate his meaning with a poppy and a 

stick. 

Or, if it rained, the little maid would stop at home 
and look ' 

At his favourable notices, all pasted in a book 

And then her cheek would flush- her swimminf^ 
eyes would dance with joy ^ 

In a glow of admiration at the prowess of her boy. 

One summer eve, at supper-time, the gentle Gil- 
bert said 

(As he helped his pretty Annie to a slice of collared 
head), 

" This reminds me I must settle on the next en- 
suing day 
The hash of that unmitigated villain Peter Gray." 

He saw his Annie tremble and he saw his Annie 

start. 

Her changing colour trumpeted the flutter at her 
heart; 



202 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Young Gilbert's manly bosom rose and sank with 
jealous fear, 

And he said, " O gentle Annie, what 's the mean- 
ing of this here ? " 

And Annie answered, blushing in an interesting 

way, 
"You think, no doubt, I'm sighing for that felon 

Peter Gray : 
That 1 was his young woman is unquestionably 

true, 
But not since I began a-keeping company with 

you." 

Then Gilbert, who was irritable, rose and loudly 

swore 
He'd know the reason why if she refused to tell 

him more ; 
And she answered (all the woman in her flashing 

from her eyes), 
" You mustn't ask no questions, and you won't be 

told no lies. 




" Few lovers have the privilege enjoyed, my dear, 

by you, 
Of chopping off a rival's head and quartering him 

too ! 
Of vengeance, dear, to-morrow you will surely 

take your fill." 
And Gilbert ground his molars as he answered 

her, " I will ! " 



ANNIE PROTHEROE. 203 

Young Gilbert rose from table with a stern 

determined look, 
And, frowning, took an inexpensive hatchet from 

its hook ; 
And Annie watched his movements with an 

interested air — 
For the morrow — for the morrow he was going to 

prepare ! 

He chipped it with a hammer and he chopped it 

with a bill, 
He poured sulphuric acid on the edge of it, until 
This terrible Avenger of the Majesty of Law 
Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw. 




*-^U.-^ 



And Annie said, " Gilbert, dear, I do not under- 
stand 

Why ever you are injuring that hatchet in your 
hand?" 

He said, " It is intended for to lacerate and flay 

The neck of that unmitigated villain Peter Gray ! " 

"Now Gilbert," Annie answered, "wicked heads- 
man, just beware — 

I won't have Peter tortured with that horrible 
affair ; 

If you appear with that, you may depend you '11 
rue the day." 

But Gilbert said, " Oh, shall I ?" which was just 
his nasty way. 

He saw a look of anger from her eyes distinctly 

dart, 
For Annie was a woman, and had pity in her 

heart. 
She wished him a good evening — he answered 

with a, glare ; 



504 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

She only said, " Kemember, for your Annie will 
be there ! " 



The morrow Gilbert boldly on the scaffold took 

his stand, 
With a vizor on his face and with a hatchet in 

his hand, 
And all the people noticed that the Engine of the 

Law 
Was far less like a hatchet than a dissipated saw. 

The felon very coolly loosed his collar and his 

stock, 
And placed his wicked head upon the handy 

little block. 
The hatchet was uplifted for to settle Peter Gray, 
When Gilbert plainly heard a woman's voice 

exclaiming, " Stay ! " 

'T was Annie, gentle Annie, as you'll easily 

believe. 
" O Gilbert, you must spare him, for I bring you 

a reprieve, 
It came from our Home Secretary many weeks 

ago. 
And passed through that post-office which I used 

to keep at Bow. 




\iiiy 



ANNIE PROTHEROE. 205 

" I loved you, loved you madly, and you know it, 
Gilbert Clay, 

And as I 'd quite surrendered all idea of Peter 
Gray, 

I quietly suppressed it, as you '11 clearly under- 
stand, 

For I thought it might be awkward if he came 
and claimed my hand. 

" In anger at my secret (which I could not tell 

before) 
To lacerate poor Peter Gray vindictively you 

swore ; 
1 told you if you used that blunted axe you 'd 

rue the day, 
And so you will, old fellow, for I '11 marrv Peter 

Gray!" 

\A.nd so she did. 




GREGORY PARABLE, LL.D. 

A LEAFY cot, where no dry rot 

Had ever been by tenant seen, 

Where ivy clung and wopses stung, 

Where beeses hummed and drummed and 

strummed, 
Where treeses grew and breezes blew — 
A thatchy roof, quite waterproof, 
Where countless herds of dickybirds 
Built twiggy beds to lay their heads 
(My mother begs I '11 make it " eggs," 
But though it 's true that dickies do 
Construct a nest with chirpy noise, 
With view to rest their eggy joys, 
'Neath eavy sheds, yet eggs and beds, 
As I explain to her in vain 
Five hundred times, are faulty rhymes). 
'Neath such a cot, built on a plot 
Of freehold land, dwelt Mary and 
Her worthy father, named by me 
Gregory Parable, LL.D. 

He knew no guile, this simple man, 
No worldly wile, or plot, or plan, 
Except that plot of freehold land 
That held the cot, and Mary, and 
Her worthy father, named by me 
Gregory Parable, LL.D. 

A grave and learned scholar he. 
Yet simple as a child could be. 
He 'd shirk his meal to sit and cram 
A goodish deal of Eton Gram, 
No man alive could him nonplus 
With vocative oijilius. 



GREGORY PARABLE LL.D. 207 

No man alive more fully knew 
The passive of a verb or two. 
None better knew the worth than he 
Of words that end in 6, dy t 
Upon his green in early spring 
He might be seen endeavouring 
To understand the hooks and crooks 
Of Henry and his Latin books, 
Or calling for his " Caesar on 
The Gallic War," Uke any don; 
Or, p'r'aps expounding unto all 
How mythic Balbus built a walL 
So lived the sage who 's named by me 
Gregory Parable, LL.D, 

To him one autumn day there came 
A lovely youth of mystic name ; 
He took a lodging in the house 
And fell a-dodgivng snipe and grouse, 
For, oh ! that mild scholastic one 
Let shooting for a single gun. 

By three or four, when sport was o'er, 
The Mystic One laid by his gun, 
And made sheep's eyes of giant size, 
Till after tea, at Mary P. ; 
And Mary P. (so kind was she), 
She, too, made eyes of giant size. 
Whose every dart right through the heart 
Appeared to run that Mystic One. 
The Doctor's whim engrossing him. 
He did not know they flirted so. 
For, save at tea, " miisa mtiscB" 
As I 'm advised, monopolized 
And rendered blind his giant mind. 
But looking up above his cup 
One afternoon, he saw them spoon. 
" Aha ! " quoth he, " you naughtv lass ! 
As quaint old Ovid says, ' Amas ! ' " 
The Mystic Youth avowed the truth, 
And, claiming ruth, he said, " In sooth 
I love your daughter, aged man ; 
Eefuse to join us if you can. 
Treat not my offer, sir, with scorn. 



2o8 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

I 'm wealthy tliougli I 'm lowly bom " 
" Young sir," the aged scholar said, 
" I never thought you meant to wed. 
Engrossed completely with my books, 
I little noticed lovers' looks. 
I 've lived so long away from man, 
I do not know of any plan 
By which to test a lover's worth, 
Except, perhaps, the test of birth. 
I 've half forgotten in this wild 
A father's duty to his child. 
It is his place, I think it 's said. 
To see his daughters richly wed 
To dignataries of the earth, 
If possible, of noble birth. 
If noble birth is not at hand, 
A father may, I understand 
(And this affords a chance for you). 
Be satisfied to wed her to 
A Boucicault or Baring — which 
Means any one who 's jolly rich. 
Now, there 's an Earl who lives hard by, 
Come, Mary, we will go and try 
If he would like to marry thee. 
If not, thy bride the maid shall be." 




They sought the Earl that very day ; 
The Sage began to say his say. 



GREGOR y PARABLE, LL.D. 



209 



The Earl (a very wicked man, 
Whose face bore Vice's blackest ban) 
Cut short the scholar's simple tale, 
And said in voice to make them quail, 
" Pooh ! go along ! you 're drunk, no doubt- 
Here, Peters, turn these people out ! " 

The Sage, rebuffed in mode uncouth, 
Returning, met the Mystic Youth. 
" My darling boy," the Scholar said, 
" Take Mary — blessings on your head ! " 
The Mystic Boy undid his vest, 
And took a parchment from his breast, 
And said, " Now, by that noble brow, 
I ne'er knew father such as thou ! " 

The sterling rule of common sense 
Now reaps its proper recompense. 
Rejoice, my soul's unequalled Queen, 
For I am Duke of Gretna Green ! " 




AN UlS^FOKTUNATE LIKENESS. 

I 'VE painted Shakespeare all my life — 
" An infant " (even then at play !) 
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife, 

Then " Married to Ann Hathaway." 

" The bard's first ticket night " (or " ben."), 
His " First appearance on the stage," 
His " Call before the curtain " — then 
" Rejoicings when he came of age." 

The bard play- writing in his room, 
The bard a humble lawyer's clerk, 

The bard a lawyer^ — parson^ — groom^ — 
The bard deer-stealing, after dark. 

The bard a tradesman^ — and a Jew^ — 
The bard a botanist^ — a beak? — 

The bard a skilled musicians too — 
A sheritf* and a surgeon eke ! 



1 "Go with me to a Notary — seal me there 

Your single bond. " — Merchant of Venice, Act I. , sc. 3. 

2 " And there shall she, at Friar Lawrence' cell, 

Be shrived and married." — 

Romeo and Juliet, Act II. , sc. 4. 

3 ''And give their fasting horses provender." — 

Heyiry tJie Fifth, Act IV., sc. 2. 

* " Let us, like merchants, show our foulest wares." — 
Troilus and Oressida, Act I., sc. 3. 

^ " Then must the Jew be merciful." — 

Mercliant of Venice, Act IV. , sc. 1. 

« "The spring, the summer, 

The childing autumn, angry winter, change 
Their wonted liveries." — 

Midsummer Night's Dream, Act IV., sc. 1. 

7 " In the county of Glo'ster, iustice of the peace and 

coram."— Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I., sc. 1. 

8 "What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?" — 

King John, Act V. , sc. 2. 

9 "And I'll provide his executioner. " — 

Henry the Sixth (Second Part), Act III., sc. 1. 



AN UNFORTUN-ATE LIKENESS. 211 

Yet critics say (a friendly stock) 

That, though it 's evident I try, 
Yet even I can barely mock 

The glimmer of his wondrous eye ! 

One morning as a work I framed, 
There passed a person, walking hard : 
" My gracious goodness," I exclaimed, 
" How very like my dear old bard ! 




" Oh, what a model he would make ! " 
I rushed outside — impulsive me ! — 

" Forgive the liberty I take. 

But you're so very" — "Stop!" said he. 

" You needn't waste your breath or time, — 
I know what you are going to say, — 
That you 're an artist, and that I 'm 
Remarkably like Shakespeare. Eh % 

" You wish that I would sit to you ? " 
1 clasped him madly round the waist, 
And breathlessly replied, " I do ! " 
" All right," said he, " but please make haste." 



212 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

I led him by his hallowed sleeve, 
And worked away at him apace, 

I painted him till dewy eve, — 
There never was a nobler face ! 

" Oh, sir," I said, " a fortune grand 

Is yours, by dint of merest chance, — 
To sport liis brow at second-hand. 
To wear his cast-off countenance ! 

" To rub his eyes whene'er they ache — 
To wear Ms baldness ere you 're old — 
To clean liu teeth when you awake — 
To blow his nose when you 've a cold ! " 

His eyeballs glistened in his eyes — 

I sat and watched and smoked my pipe ; 
"Bravo!" I said, "I recognize 

The phrensy of your prototype ! " 

His scanty hair he wildly tore : 

" That 's right," said I, " it shows your breed." 
He danced — he stamped — he wildly swore — 

" Bless me, that 's very fine indeed ! " 

" Sir," said the grand Shakesperian boy 

(Continuing to blaze away), 
"You think my face a source of joy; 

That shows you know not what you say. 

" Forgive these yells and cellar-flaps : 

I 'm always thrown in some such state 
When on his face well-meaning chaps 
This wretched man congratulate. 

" For, oh ! this face — this pointed chin — 
This nose — this brow — these eyeballs too, 
Have always been the origin 
Of all the woes I ever knew ! 

" If to the play my way I find, 

To see a grand Shakesperian piece, 
I have no rest, no ease of mind 
Until the author'" Duppets cease. 



AN UNFORTUNATE LIKENESS. 213 

" Men nudge each other— thus— and say, 
' This certainly is Shakespeare's son,' 
And merry wags (of course in play) 
Cry ' Author ! ' when the piece is done. 




" In church the people stare at me. 

Their soul the sermon never binds ; 
I catch them looking round to see, 

And thoughts of Shakespeare fill their minds. 

" And sculptors, fraught with cunning wile, 
Who find it difficult to crown 
A bust with Brown's insipid smile, 
Or Tomkins's unmannered frown, 

" Yet boldly make my face their own. 
When (oh, presumption !) they require 
To animate a paving-stone 
With Shakespeare's intellectual fire. 

" At parties where young ladies gaze, 
And I attempt to speak my joy, 
' Hush, pray,' some lovely creature says, 
' The fond illusion don't destroy ! ' 

" Whene'er I speak my soul is wrung 
With these or some such whisperings : 

' 'T is pity that a Shakespeare's tongue 

Should say such un-Shakesperian things ! ' 

" I should not thus be criticised 
Had I a face of common wont : 
Don't envy me— now, be advised ! " 
And, now I think of it, I don't ! 



THE KING OF CANOODLE-DUM. 

The story of Frederick Gowler, 

A mariner of the sea, 
Who quitted his ship, the Howler, 

A-sailing in Caribbee. 
For many a day he wandered, 

Till he met in a state of rum 
Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop, 

The King of Canoodle-Dum. 

That monarch addressed him gaily, 
" Hum ! Golly de do to-day ? 
Hum ! Lily-white Buckra Sailee "— 
(You notice his playful way ?)— 
" What dickens you doin' here, sar ? 
Why debbil you want to come ? 
Hum ! Picaninnee, dere isn't no sea 
In city Canoodle-Dum ! " 

And Gowler he answered sadly, 
" Oh, mine is a doleful tale ! 
They Ve treated me wery badly 

In Lunnon, from where I hail. 
I 'm one of the Family Royd 

No common Jack Tar you see ; 
I 'm William the Fourth, far up in the North, 

A King in my own countree ! " 



THE KING OF CAN002>LE-DUM. 215 

Bang-bang ! How the tom-toms thundered ! 

Bang-bang ! How they thumped the gongs ! 
Bang-bang : How the people wondered ! 

Bang-bang ! At it, hammer and tongs ! 
Alliance with Kings of Europe 

Is an honour Canoodlers seek, 
Her monarchs don't stop with Peppermint Drop 

Every day in the week ! 

Fred told them that he was undone, 

For his people all went insane, 
And fired the Tower of London, 

And Grinnidge's Naval Fane. 
And some of them racked St. James's, 

And vented their rage upon 
The Church of St. Paul, the Fishmongers' Hall, 

And the Angel at Islington. 

Calamity Pop implored him 

To stop with him — yes, remain 
Till those people of his restored him 

To power and rank again. 
Calamity Pop he made him 

A Prince of Canoodle-Dum, 
With a couple of caves, some beautiful slaves, 

And the run of the royal rum. 




2i6 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Pop gave him his only daughter, 

Hum Pickety Wimple Tip : 
Fred vowed that if over the water 

He went, in an English ship, 
He 'd make her his Queen, — though truly 

It is an unusual thing 
For a Caribbee brat who 's as black as your hat 

To be wife of an English King. 

And all the Canoodle-Dummers 

They copied his rolling walk, 
His method of draining rummers, 

His emblematical talk. 
For his dress and his graceful breeding. 

His delicate taste in rum. 
And his nautical way, were the talk of the day 

In the Court of Canoodle-Dum. 

Calamity Pop most wisely 

Determined in everything 
To model his Court precisely 

On that of the English King ; 
And ordered that every lady 

And every lady's lord 
Should masticate jacky (a kind of tobaccy) 

And scatter its juice abroad. 

They signified wonder roundly 

At any astounding yarn. 
By darning their dear eyes roundly 

('T was all that they had to darn). 
They "hoisted their slacks," adjusting 

Garments of plantain-leaves 
With nautical twitches (as if they wore — stitchas. 

Instead of a dress like Eve's !) 

They shivered their timbers proudly. 

At a phantom fore-lock dragged. 
And called for a hornpipe loudly 

Whenever amusement flagged. 
" Hum ! Golly ! him Pop resemble 

Him Britisher sov'reign, hum ! 
Calamity Pop Von Peppermint Drop, 

De King of Canoodle-Dum ! " 



THE KING OF CANOODLE-DUM, 217 

The mariner's lively " Hollo ! " 

Enlivened Canoodle's plain 
(For blessings unnumbered follow 

in Civilization's train). 
But Fortune (a walking bathos) 

A terrible ending planned, 
For Admiral D. Chickabiddy, C.B., 

Placed foot on Canoodle land ! 




That rebel, he seized King Gowler, 
He threatened his royal brains, 
And put him aboard the Howler^ 

And fastened him down with 
chains. 
The Howler she weighed her an- 
chor, 
With Frederick nicely nailed, 
And off to the north with Wil- 
liam the Fourth 
These horrible pirates sailed. 

Calamity said (with folly) 
" Hum ! nebber want him 

again — 
Him civilize all of us, golly ! 
Calamity suck his brain ! " 
The people, however, were pained 
when 



2l8 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



They saw him aboard his ship, 
But none of them wept for their Freddy, except 
Hum Pickety Wimple Tip. 




FIRST LOVE. 

A CLERGYMAN in Berkshire dwelt, 
The Reverend Bernard Powles, 

And in his church there weekly knelt 
At least a thousand souls. 

There little Ellen you might see, 

The modest rustic belle ; 
In maidenly simplicity, 

She loved her Bernard well. 

Though Ellen wore a plain silk gown 
Untrimmed with lace or fur, 

Yet not a husband in the town 
But wished his wife like her. 

Though sterner memories might fade, 

You never could forget 
The child-form of that baby-maid, 

The ViUage Violet ! 

A simple frightened loveliness, 

Whose sacred spirit-part 
Shrank timidly from worldly stress, 

And nestled in your heart. 




220 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Powles woo'd with every well-worn, plan 

And all the usual wiles 
With which a well-schooled gentleman 

A simple heart beguiles. 

The hackneyed compliments that bore 
World-folks like you and me, 

Appeared to her as if they wore 
The crown of Poesy. 

His winking eyelid sang a song 
Her heart could understand, 

Eternity seemed scarce too long 
When Bernard squeezed her hand. 

He ordered down the martial crew 

Of Godfrey's Grenadiers, 
And Coote conspired with Tinney to 

Ecstaticize her ears. 

Beneath her window, veiled from eye, 
They nightly took their stand, 

On birthdays supplemented by 
The Covent Garden band. 




FIRST LOVE. 221 

And little Ellen, all alone, 

Enraptured sat above, 
And thought how blest she was to own 

The wealth of Powles's love. 

I often, often wonder what 

Poor Ellen saw in him ; 
For calculated he was not 

To please a woman's whim. 

He wasn't good, despite the air 

An M.B. waistcoat gives ; 
Indeed, his dearest friends declare 

No greater humbug lives. 

No kind of virtue decked this priest, 

He 'd nothing to allure ; 
He wasn't handsome in the least, — • 

He wasn't even poor. 

No — he was cursed with acres fat 

(A Christian's direst ban). 
And gold— yet, notwithstanding tbat, 

Poor Ellen loved the man. 

As unlike Bernard as could be 

Was poor old Aaron Wood 
(Disgraceful Bernard's curate he) ; 

He was extremely good. 

A Bayard in his moral pluck, 

Without reproach or fear, 
A quiet venerable duck 

With fifty pounds a year. 

No fault had he— no fad, except 

A tendency to strimi, 
In mode at which you would have wept, 

A dull harmonium. 

He had no gold Math which to hire 

The minstrels who could best 
Convey a notion of the fire 

That raged within his breast. 



222 THE " BAB " BALLADS, 




And so, wlien Coote and Tinney's Own 

Had tootled all they knew, 
And when the Guards, completely blown, 

Exhaustedly withdrew, 

And Nell began to sleepy feel, 

Poor Aaron then would come, 
And underneath her window wheel 

His plain harmonium. 

He woke her every morn at two, 

And having gained her ear, 
In vivid colours Aaron drew 

The sluggard's grim career. 

He warbled Apiarian praise, 

And taught her in his chant 
To shun the dog's disgraceful ways. 

And imitate the ant. 

Still Nell seemed not, how much he played, 

To love him out and out, 
Although the admirable maid 

Respected him no doubt. 



FIRST LOVE. 



223 




She told him of her earlv vow, 
And said as Bernard's wife 

It might be hers to show him how 
To rectify his life. 

• You are so pure, so kind, so true, 
Your goodness shines so bright, 
What use would Ellen be to you ? 
Believe me, you 're all right." 

She wished him happiness and healths 
And flew on lightning wings 

To Bernard with his dangerous wealth 
And all the woes it brings. 




BEAYE ALUM BEY. 

Oh, big was the bosom of brave Alum Bey, 

And also the region that under it lay, 

In safety and peril remarkably cool. 

And he dwelt on the banks of the Kiver StambouL 

Each morning he went to his garden, to cull 
A bunch of zenana or sprig of bul-bul, 
And offered the bouquet, in exquisite bloom. 
To Backsheesh, the daughter of Eahat Lakoum. 

No maiden like Backsheesh could tastily cook 
A kettle of kismet or joint of tchibouk, 
As Alum, brave fellow !• sat pensively by, 
With a bright sympathetic ka-bob in his eye. 

Stern duty compelled him to leave her one day— 
(A ship's supercargo was brave Alum Bey) — 
To pretty young Backsheesh he made a salaam. 
And sailed to the isle of Seringapatam. 

" O Alum," said she, " think again, ere you go — 
Hareems may arise and Moguls they may blow ; 
You may strike on a fez, or be drowned, which is 

wuss ! " 
But Alum embraced her and spoke to her thus : 

" Cease weeping, fair Backsheesh ! I willingly 

swear 
Cork jackets and trousers I always will Avear, 
And I also throw in a large number of oaths 
That I never — no,never — will take off my clothes!" 

* it * * * 



BRA VE AL UM BE V. 



225 




They left Madagascar away on their right, 
And made Clapham Common the following ni»ht, 
Then lay on their oars for a fortnight or two,*' 
Becalmed in the ocean of Honololu. 

One day Alum saw^, with alarm in his breast, 
A cloud on the nor-sow-sow-nor-sow-nor-west • 
The wind it arose, and the crew gave a scream, 
For they knew it— they knew it !~the dreaded 
Hareem ! ! 

The mast it went over, and so did the sails. 
Brave Alum threw over his casks and his bales ; 
The billows arose as the weather grew thick. 
And all except Alum ^^rew terribly sick. 

The crew were but three, but they hoUoa'd for nine. 
They howled and they blubbered with wail and 

with whine : 
The skipper he fainted away in the fore, 
For he hadn't the heart for to skip any more. 



226 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

"Ho, coward ! said Alum, "with heart of a child I 
Thou son of a party whose grave is defiled ! 
Is Alum in terror ? is Alum afeared ? 
Ho ! ho ! If you had one I 'd laugh at your beard." 

His eyeball it gleamed like a furnace of coke ; 
He boldly inflated his clothes as he spoke ; 
He daringly felt for the corks on his chest, 
And he recklessly tightened the belt at his breast. 

For he knew, the brave Alum, that, happen what 

might. 
With belts and cork-jacketing, Ae was all right ; 
Though others might sink, he was certain to 

swim, — 
No Hareem whatever had terrors for him ! 

They begged him to spare from his personal store 
A single cork garment, — they asked for no more ; 
But he couldn't, because of the number of oaths 
That he never — no, never ! — would take off his 
clothes. 

The billows dash o'er them and topple around, 
They see they are pretty near sure to be drowned. 
A terrible wave o'er the quarter-deck breaks, 
And the vessel it .sinks in a couple of shakes ! 

The dreadful Hareem, though a beggar to blow, 
Expends all its strength in a minute or so ; 
When the vessel had foundered, as I have detailed, 
The tempest subsided, and quiet prevailed. 

One collared a cork with a yelling "Ha ! ha !" 
(Its bottle had prisoned a pint of Pacha) — 
Another a toothpick — another a tray — 
"Alas! it is useless!" said brave Alum Bey. 

" To holloa and kick is a very bad plan : 
You 'd best get it over as soon as you can ; 
You 'd better get hold of a good lump of lead. 
And collar it tightly until you are dead. 

'^ Jiist raise your hands over your pretty heads-— 

so — 
Right down to the bottom you 're certain to go. 
Ta ! ta ! I'm afraid we shall not meet again " — 
For the truly courageous are truly humane. 



BRAVE ALUM BEY, 



227 



Brave Alum was picked up tlie very next day— 
A man-o'-war sighted him smoking away ; 
With hunger and cold he was ready to drop, 
So they sent him below and they gave him a chop, 

O reader, or readress, whichever you be, 
You weep for the crew who have sunk in the seal 
O reader, or readress, read further, and dry 
Ihe bright svmpathetic ka-bob in your eye. 




That ship had a grapple with three iron spikes,— 
It 's lowered, and, ha ! on a summat it strikes ! 
Thev haul it aboard with a British "heave-ho !" 
And what it has fished the drawing will show. 

There was Wilson, and Parker, and Tomlinson 

too — 
(The first was the captain, the others the crew)— 
As lively and spry as a Malabar ape. 
Quite pleased and surprised at their happy escape. 

And Alum, brave fellow, who stood in the fore, 
And never expected to look on them more, 
Was really delighted to see them again. 
For the truly courageous are truly humane. 



SIE BAENABY BAMPTON BOO. 




This is Sir Bamaby Bampton Boo, 

Last of a noble race, 
Barnaby Bampton, coming to woo, 
All at a deuce of a pace. 
Barnaby Bampton Boo, 
Here is a health to you : 
Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck — 
Barnaby Bampton Boo ! 

The excellent women of Tuptonve© 

Knew Sir Barnaby Boo ; 
One of them surely his bride would be, 
But dickens a soul knew who. 
Women of Tuptonvee, 
Here is a health to ye : 
For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off you ears, 
Women of Tuptonvee ! 



SIR BARNAB Y B AMP TON BOO. 229 




Here are old Mr. and Mrs. de Plow 

(Peter his Christian name), 
They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow — 
Farming it was their game. 

Worthy old Peter de Plow, 
Here is a health to thou : 
Your race isn't run, though you 're seventy-one. 
Worthy old Peter de Plow ! 

To excellent Mr. and Mrs. de Plow 

Came Sir Barnaby Boo, 
He asked for their daughter, and told 'em how 
He was as rich as a Jew. 

Barnaby Bampton's wealth. 
Here is your jolly good health: 
I 'd never repine if you came to be mine, 
Barnaby Bampton's wealth ! 

" O great Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo " 

(Said Plow to that titled swell), 
" My missus has given me daughters two — 
Amelia and Carrotty Nell ! " 
Amelia and Carrotty Nell, 
1 hope you 're uncommonly well : 
You two pretty pearls, you extremely nice girls—- 
Amelia and Carrotty Nell I 

" There are Amelia and Carrotty Nell — 
Milly is good but plain, 
The other is pretty, as I 've heard tell, 
But terribly Dert and vain." 



33© THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

Carrotty Ellen de Plow, 
I drink to you willingly now ; 
Butj oh, dear ! you sliould copy Milly the Good, 
Carrotty Ellen de Plow ! 

" Amelia is passable only in face, 
But, oh ! she 's a worthy girl ; 
Superior morals like hers would grace 
The home of a belted Earl." 
Morality, heavenly link ! 
To you I '11 eternally drink : 
I 'm awfully fond of that heavenly bond, 
Morality, heavenly link ! 




" Now, Nelly 's the prettier, pVaps, of my gals, 
But, oh ! she 's a wayward chit ; 
She dresses herself in her showy fal-lals, 
And doesn't read Tupper a bit !" 
O Tupper, philosopher true, 
How do you happen to do ? 
A publisher looks with respect on your books. 
For they do sell, philosopher true ! 



SIR BARNAB V BAM P TON BOO. 2ji 

The Bart. (I '11 be hanged if I drink him again, 

Or care if he 's ill or well), 
He sneered at the goodness of Milly the Plain, 
And cottoned to Carrotty Nell. 
O Carrotty Nelly de P. ! 
Be hanged if I 'll empty to thee : 
I like worthy maids, not mere frivolous jades, 
Carrotty Nelly de P. ! 

They bolted, the Bart, and his frivolous dear, 

And Milly was left to pout ; 
For years they 've got on very well, as I hear. 

But soon he will rue it, no doubt. 

excellent Milly de Plow, 

1 really can't drink to you now ; 

My head isn't strong, and the song has been long, 
Excellent Milly de Plow ! 




THE MODEST COUPLE. 




Whex man and maiden meet, I like to see a 

drooping eye, 
I always droop my own — I am the shyest of the 

shy, 
I 'm also fond of bashfulness, and sitting down on 

thorns, 
And modesty's a quality that womankind adorns. 

Whenever I am introduced to any pretty maid. 
My knees they knock together, just as if I were 

afraid ; 
I flutter, and I stammer, and I turn a pleasing red, 
For to laugh, and flirt, and ogle I consider most 

ill-bred. 

Some persons when they're introduced to maidens 

young and fair, 
Begin at once by begging for a little lock of hair ; 
Or when they meet a strange young girl, they '11 

take her round the waist ; 
Perhaps I am old fashioned, but it argues want of 

taste. 



THE MODEST COUPLE, 



233 



But still in all these matters, as in other things 

below, 
There is a proper medium, as 1 'm about to show. 
I do not recommend a newly-married pair to try- 
To carry on as Peter carried on with Sarah Bligh. 

Betrothed they were when very young — before 
they 'd learnt to speak 

(For Sarah was but six days old, and Peter was a 
week) ; 

Though little more than babies at those early 
ages, yet 

They bashfully would faint when they occasion- 
ally met. 

They blushed, and flushed, and fainted, till they 

reached the age of nine. 
When Peter's good Papa (he was a Baron of the 

Rhine) 
Determined to endeavour some sound argument 

to find 
To bring these shy young people to a proper frame 

of mind. 




234 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

He told them that as Sarah was to be his Peter's 
bride, 

They might at least consent to sit at table side by- 
side: 

He begged that they would now and then shake 
hands, till he was hoarse, 

Which Sarah thought indelicate, and Peter very 
coarse. 

And Peter in a tremble to the blushing maid 

would say, 
" You must excuse Papa, Miss Bligh, — it is his 

mountain way.'' 
Says Sarah, " His behaviour I '11 endeavour to 

forget. 
But your Pa 's the very coarsest person that I 

ever met. 

" He plighted us without our leave, when we were 

very young. 
Before we had begun articulating with the tongue. 
His underbred suggestions fill your Sarah with 

alarm ; 
Why, gracious me ! he '11 ask us next to walk out 

arm in arm!" 

At length when Sarah reached the legal age of 

twenty-one. 
The Baron he determined to unite her to his son ; 
And Sarah in a fainting fit for weeks unconscious 

lay? 

And Peter blushed so hard you might have heard 
him miles away. 

And when the time arrived for taking Sarah to 
his heart, 

They were married in two churches half a dozen 
miles apart 

(Intending to escape all public ridicule and chaff), 

And the service was conducted by electric tele- 
graph. 



THE MODEST COUPLE, 23.5 

And when it was concluded, and the priest had 

said his say, 
Until the time arrived when they were both to 

drive away 
They never spoke or offered for to fondle or to 

fawn, 
For }ie waited in the attic, and she waited on the 

lawn. 

At length, when four o'clock arrived, and it was 

time to go, 
The carriage was announced, but decent Sarah 

answered " No ! 
Upon my word, I 'd rather sleep my everlasting 

nap 
Than go and ride alone with Mr. Peter in a 

trap." 

And Peter's ever-sensitive and highly-polished 
mind 

Wouldn't suffer him to sanction a proceeding of 
the kind ; 

And further, he declared he suffered overwhelm- 
ing shocks 

At the bare idea of having any coachman on the 
box. 

So Peter in one chariot incontinently rushed, 
While Sarah in a second trap sat modestly and 

blushed ; 
And Mr. Newman's coachman, on authority I 've 

heard. 
Deposited himself upon the coach-box of a 

third. 

Now, though this modest couple in the matter of 

the car 
Were very likely carrying a principle too far, 
I hold their shy behaviour was more laudable in 

them 
Than that of Peter's brother with Miss Sarah's 

sister Em. 



236 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Alphonso, who in cool assurance all creation licks, 
He up and said to Emmie (who had impudence 

for six), 
" Miss Emily, I love you — will you marry ? Say 

the word ! " 
And Emily said, "Certainly, Alphonso, like a 

bird!" 

I do not recommend a newly-married pair to try 
'To carry on as Peter carried on with Sarah Bligh, 
But still their shy behaviour was more laudable 

in them 
Than that of Peter's brother with Miss Sarah « 

sister Em. 




THE MAETINET. 

Some time ago, in simple verse 

I sang the story true 
Of Captain Reece, the Mantelpiece^ 
And all her happy crew. 

I showed how any captain may 

Attach his men to him, 
If he but heeds their smallest needs, 

And studies every whim. 

Now mark how, by Draconic rule 

And hauteur ill-advised, 
The noblest crew upon the Blue 

May be demoralized. 

When his ungrateful country placed 

Kind Reece upon half-pay, 
Without much claim Sir Berkely came, 

And took command one day. 

Sir Berkely was a martinet — 

A stern unyielding soul — 
Who ruled his ship by dint of whip 

And horrible black-hole. 

A sailor who was overcome 

From having freely dined, 
And chanced ta reel when at the wheel, 

He instantly confined ! 



233 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

And tars wlio, when an action raged, 

Appeared alarmed or scared, 
And those below who wished to go, 

He very seldom spared. 

E'en he who smote his officer 

For punishment was booked, 
And mutinies upon the seas 

He rarely overlooked. 

In short, the happy Mantelpiece 

Where all had gone so well, 
Beneath that fool Sir Berkely's rule 

Became a floating hell. 

When first Sir Berkely came aboard 

He read a speech to all, 
And told them how he 'd made a vow 

To act on duty's call. 

Then William Lee, he up and said 
(The Captain's coxswain he) : 
" We 've heard the speech your honour 's made, 
And werry pleased we be. 

" We won't pretend, my lad, as how 
We 're glad to lose our Reece ; 

Urbane, polite, he suited quite 
The saucy Mantelpiece, 

" But if your honour gives your mind 
To study all our ways, 
With dance and song we '11 jog along 
As in those happy days. 

'■I like your honour's looks, and feel 
You 're worthy of your sword. 
Your hand, my lad — I 'm doosid glad 
To welcome you aboard ! " 

Sir Berkely looked amazed, as though 
He didn't understand. 
" Don't shake your head," good William said, 
" It is an honest hand. 



THE MARTINET. 



239 




" It 's grasped a better hand than yourn — 
Come, goy'nor, I insist ! " 
The Captain stared — the coxswain glared- 
The hand became a fist ! 

" Down, upstart 1 " said the hardy salt ; 
But Berkely dodged his aim, 
And made him go in chains below : 
The seamen murmured " Shame ! " 

He stopped all songs at 12 p.m., 
Stopped hornpipes when at sea, 

And swore his cot (or bunk) should not 
Be used by aught than he. 

He never joined their daily mess, 

Nor asked them to his own, 
But chaffed in gay and social way 

The ofiicers alone. 

His First Lieutenant, Peter, was 

As useless as could be, 
A helpless stick, and always sick 

When there was any sea. 

This First Lieutenant proved to be 

His foster-sister May, 
Who went to sea for love of he 

In masculine array. 



240 



THE "BAB"' BALLADS. 

And when he learnt the curious fact, 

Did he emotion show, 
Or dry her tears, or end her fears 

By marrying her ? No ! 




Or did he even try to soothe 
This maiden in her teens ? 

Oh, no I — instead he made her wed 
The Sergeant of Marines ! 

Of course such Spartan discipline 
Would make an angel fret. 

They drew a lot, and William shot 
This fearful Martinet. 

The Admiralty saw how ill 

They 'd treated Captain Reece ; 

He was restored once more aboard 
The saucy Mantelpiece, 



THE EEYEEEND SIMON MAGUS. 

A RICH advowson, highly prized, 
For private sale was advertised ; 
And many a parson made a bid ; 
The Keverend Simon Magus did. 




^. 



'^ 



He sought the agent's : " Agent, I 
Have come prepared at once to buy 
(If your demand is not too big) 
The Cure of Otium-cum-Digge." 

" Ah ! " said the agent, " there 's a berth- 
The snuggest vicarage on earth ; 
No sort of duty (so I hear), 
And fifteen hundred pounds a year! 

" If on the price we should agree. 
The living soon will vacant be : 
The good incumbent 's ninety-five, 
And cannot very long survive. 



242 THE '• BAB " BALLADS. 




" See — here 's his photograph — you see, 
He 's in his dotage." " Ah, dear me! 
Poor soul! " said Simon. " His decease 
"Would be a merciful release ! " 

The agent laughed — the agent blinked — 
The agent blew his nose and winked — 
And poked the parson's ribs in play — 
It was that agent's vulgar way. 

The Reverend Simon frowned : " I grieve 
This light demeanour to perceive ; 
It 's scarcely commie il faut, I think : 
Now — pray oblige me — do not wink. 

" Don't dig my waistcoat into holes — 
Your mission is to sell the souls 
Of human sheep and human kids 
To that divine who highest bids. 

" Do well in this, and on your head 
Unnumbered honours will be shed." 
The agent said, " Well, truth to tell, 
I have been doing very well." 

" You should," said Simon, " at your age ; 
But now about the parsonage. 
How many rooms does it contain? 
Show me the photograph again. 

A poor apostle's humble house 
Must not be too luxurious ; 
No stately halls with oaken floor — 
It should be decent and no more. 



THE REVEREND SIMON MAGUS. 243 

" No billiard-rooms — no stately trees — 

No croquet-grounds or pineries." 
"All !" sighed the agent, " very true: 

This property won't do for you. 

" All these about the house you '11 find " — 
" Well," said the parson, " never mind ; 

I '11 manage to submit to these 

Luxurious superfluities. 

*^A clergyman who does not shirk 
The various calls of Christian work 
Will have no leisure to employ 
These ' common forms ' of worldly joy. 

" To preach three times on Sabbath days — 
To wean the lost from wicked ways — 
The sick to soothe — the sane to wed — 
The poor to feed with meat and bread ; 

" These are the various wholesome ways 
In which I '11 spend my nights and days : 
My zeal will have no time to cool 
At croquet, archery, or pool." 

The agent said, " From what I hear, 
This liWng will not suit, I fear — 
There are no poor, no sick at all ; 
For services there is no call." 

The reverend gent looked grave. " Dear me! 

Then there is no * society ' ?-— 

I mean, of course, no sinners there 

Whose souls will be my special care?'* 

The cunning agent shook his head, 
" No, none — except " — (the agent said) — 
" The Duke of A., the Earl of B., 

The Marquis C, and Viscoimt D. 

" But you will not be quite alone, 
For, though they 've chaplains of their own, 
Of course this noble well-bred clan 
Receive the parish clergyman." 



244 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



^ 




" Oh, silence, sir ! " said Simon M., 
" Dukes — earls ! What should I care for them ? 
These worldly ranks I scorn and flout, 
Of course." The agent said, " No doubt." 

" Yet I might show these men of birth 
The hollowness of rank on earth." 
The agent answered, " Very true — 
But I should not, if I were you." 

" Who sells this rich advowson, pray ? " 
The agent winked — it was his way — 

*' His name is Hart ; 'twixt me and you, 
He is, I 'm grieved to say, a Jew ! " 

** A Jew ?" said Simon, " happy find ! 
I purchase this advowson, mind. 
My life shall be devoted to 
Converting that unhappy Jew ! '" 



DAMON V, PYTHIAS. 

Two better friends you wouldn't pass 
Throughout a summer's day, 

Than Damon and his Pythias, — 
Two merchant princes they. 

At school together they contrived 

All sorts of boyish larks ; 
And, later on, together thrived 

As merry merchants' clerks. 




And then, when many years had flown. 

They rose together till 
They bought a business of their own— 

And they conduct it still. 



246 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

They loved eacTi other all their lives, 

Dissent they never knew, 
And, stranger still, their very wives 

Were rather friendly too. 

Perhaps you think, to serve my end? 

These statements I refute 
When I admit that these dear friends 

Were parties to a suit. 

But 't was a friendly action, for 

Good Pythias, as you see. 
Fought merely as executor, 

And Damon as trustee. 

They laughed to think, as through the throng 

Of suitors sad they past. 
That they, who 'd lived and loved so long. 

Should go to law at last. 

The junior briefs they kindly let 

Two sucking counsel hold ; 
These learned persons never yet 

Had tasted suitors' gold. 

But though the happy suitors two 

Were friendly as could be. 
Not so the junior counsel who 

Were earning maiden fee. 

They too, till then, were friends. At school 
They 'd done each other's sums. 

And under Oxford's gentle rule 
Had been the closest chums. 

But now they met with scowl and grin 

In every public place, 
And often snapped their fingers in 

Each other's learned face. 

It almost ended in a fight 

When they on path or stair 
Met face to face. They made it quite 

A personal affair. 



DAMON V. PYTHIAS. 247 

(Enthusiastically high 

Your sense of legal strife, 
When it affects the sanctity 

Of your domestic life.) 

And when at length the case was called 

(It came on rather late), 
Spectators really were appalled 

To see their deadly hate. 

One junior rose — with eyeballs tense, 

And swollen frontal veins : 
To all his powers of eloquence 

He gave the fullest reins. 

His argument was novel — for 

A verdict he relied 
On blackening the junior 

Upv>n the other side. 

" Oh," said the Judge at "Westminster, 
" The matter in dispute 
To arbitration pray refer — ■ 
This is a friendly suit." 

And Pythias, in merry mood, 

Digged Damon in the side ; 
And Damon, tickled with the feud. 

With other digs replied. 

But oh! those deadly counsel twain, 

Who were such friends before, 
Were never reconciled again ; 

They quarrelled more and more. 

At length it happened that they met 

On Alpine heights one day. 
And then they paid each other's debt— 

Their fury had its way. 

They seized each other in a trice, 

With scorn and hatred filled, 
And falling from a precipice, 

They, both of them^ were killed. 



THE SAILOE BOY TO HIS LASa 




I GO away this blessed day, 

To sail across the sea, Matilda ! 
My vessel starts for various parts 

At twenty after three, Matilda. 
I hardly know where we may go, 

Or if it 's near or far, Matilda, 
For Captain Hyde does not confide 

In any 'foremast tar, Matilda 1 

Beneath my ban that mystic man 

Shall suffer, coUte qui coMe, Matilda! 
What right has he to keep from me 

The Admiralty route, Matilda ? 
Because, forsooth ! I am a youth 

Of common sailors' lot, Matilda! 
Am 1 a man on human plan 

Designed, or am I not, Matilda? 



THE SAlLUR BOY TO HIS LASS. 249 




But there, my lass, we '11 let that pass ! 

With anxious love I burn, Matilda. 
I want to know if we shall go 

To church when I return, MatiMa ? 
Your ej-es are red, you bow your head ; 

It 's pretty clear you thirst, Matilda, 
To name the day — What 's that vou say ? — 
" You '11 see me further first," Matilda ? 

I can't mistake the signs you make, 

Although you barely speak, Matilda ; 
Though pure and young, you thrust your tongue 

Right in your pretty cheek, Matilda ! 
My dear, I fear I hear you sneer — 

I do — I'm sure I do, Matilda — 
With simple grace you make a face, 

Ejaculating, "Ugh!" Matilda. 

Oh, pause to think before you drink 
The dregs of Lethe's cup, Matilda ! 

Remember, do, what I 've gone through, 
Before you give me up, Matilda ! 



250 THE "BAB'' BALLADS. 

Recall again the mental pain 

Of what I 've had to do, Matilda ! 

And be assured that I 've endured 
It, all along of you, Matilda !■ 

Do you forget, my blithesome pet. 

How once with jealous rage, Matilda, 
I watched you walk and gaily talk 

With some one thrice your age, Matilda? 
You squatted free upon his knee, 

A sight that made me sad, Matilda ! 
You pinched his cheek with friendly tweak, 

Which almost drove me mad, Matilda ! 

I know him not, but hoped to spot 

Some man you thought to wed, Matilda ! 
I took a gun, my darling one, 

And shot him through the head, Matilda ! 
I 'm made of stuff that 's rough and gruff 

Enough, I own ; but, ah, Matilda ! 
It did annoy your poor old boy 

To find it was your Pa, Matilda ! 

I 've passed a life of toil and strife, 

And disappointments deep, Matilda ; 
I 've lain awake with dental ache 

Until I fell asleep, Matilda ! 
At times again I 've missed a train. 

Or p'rhaps run short of tin, Matilda, 
And worn a boot on corns that shoot. 

Or, shaving, cut my chin, Matilda ! 

But, oh ! no trains — no dental pains — 

Believe me when I say, Matilda, 
No corns that shoot — no pinching boot 

Upon a summer day, Matilda — 
It 's my belief, could cause such grief 

As that I 've suffered for, Matilda, 
My having shot in vital spot 

Your old progenitor, Matilda, 

Bethink you how I 've kept the vow 
I made one winter day, Matilda — 

That, come what could, I never would 
Remain too long away Matilda. 



THE SAILOR BOY TO HIS LASS. 251 

And, oh! the crimes with which, at times, 
I 've charged my gentle mind, Matilda, 

To keep the vow I made — and now 
You treat me so unkind, Matilda! 

For when at sea, off Caribbee, 
I felt my passion burn, Matilda 




Bypassion egged, I went and begged 
The captain to return, Matilda. 

And when, my pet, I couldn't get 
That captain to agree, Matilda, 

Right through a sort of open port 
I pitched him in the sea, Matilda! 

Remember, too, how all the crew. 

With indignation blind, Matilda, 
Distinctly swore they ne'er before 

Had thought me so unkind, Matilda. 
And how they 'd shun me one by one — 

An unforgiving group, Matilda — 
I stopped their howls and sulky scowls 

By pizening their soup, Matilda! 



252 THE '^BAB'' BALLADS. 




So pause to think, before you drink 

The dregs of Lethe's cup, Matilda ! 
Remember, do, what I 've gone through, 

Before you give me up, Matilda. 
Recall again the mental pain 

Of what I 've had to do, Matilda, 
And be assured that 1 've endured 

It, all along of you, Matilda! 



Mr DEEAM. 

The other night, from cares exempt, 
I slept — and what d' you think I dreamt ? 
I dreamt that somehow I had come 
To dwell in Topsy-Turveydom ! — 

"Where vice is virtue — virtue, vice : 
Where nice is nasty — nasty, nice : 
Where right is wrong and wrong is right- 
Where white is black and black is white. 

Where babies, much to their surprise, 
Are born astonishingly wise ; 
With every Science on their lips, 
And Art at all their finger-tips. 

For, as their nurses dandle them, 
They crow binomial theorem. 
With views (it seems absurd to us) 
On differential calculus. 

But though a babe, as I have said, 
Is born with learning in his head, 
He must forget it, if he can, 
Before he calls himself a man. 



254 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

For that whicli we call folly liei-e 
Is wisdom in that favoured sphere ; 
The wisdom we so highly prize 
Is blatant folly in their eyes. 

A boy, if he would push hiss way, 
Must learn some nonsense every day; 
And cut, to carry out this view, 
His wisdom teeth and wisdom too. 

Historians burn their midnight oils, 
Intent on giant-killers' toils ; 
And sages close their aged eyes 
To other sages' lullabies. 

Our magistrates, in duty bound, 
Commit all robbers who are found ; 
But there the beaks (so people said) 
Commit all robberies instead. 

Our judges, pure and wise in tone^ 
Know crime from theory alone. 
And glean the motives of a thief 
From books and popular belief. 




But there, a judge who wants to prime 
His mind with true ideas of crime, 
Derives them from the common sense 
Of practical experience. 



MY DREAM. 

Policemen march all folks away 
Who practise virtue every day — 
Of course, 1 mean to say, you know, 
Wliat we call virtue here below. 

For only scoundrels dare to do 
What we consider just and true, 
And only good men do, in fact. 
What we should think a dirty act. 



255 




But strangest of these social twirls. 
The girls are boys — the boys are girls ! 
The men are women, too — but then, 
Per contra^ women all are men. 

To one who to tradition clings 

This seems an awkward state of things, 

But if to think it out you try, 

It doesn't really signify. 

With them, as surely as can be, 

A sailor should be sick at sea. 

And not a passenger may sail 

Who cannot smoke right through a gale. 

A soldier (save by rarest luck) 
Is always shot for showing pluck, 
(That is, if others can be found 
With pluck enough to fire a round). 



256 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 




" How strange," I said to one I saw, 
" You quite upset our every law. 

However can you get along 

So systematically wrong ? " 

** Dear me," my mad informant said, 
" Have you no eyes within your head ? 

You sneer when you your hat should doff; 

Why, we begin where you leave off ! 

" Your wisest men are very far 
Less learned than our babies are." 
I mused awhile — and then, oh, me! 
I framed this brilliant repartee : 

" Although your babes are wiser far 
Than our most valued sages are, 
Your sages, with their toys and cots, 
Are duller than our idiots ! " 

But this remark, I grieve to state, 
Came just a little bit too late ; 
For as I framed it in my head, 
I woke and found myself in bed. 

Still I could wish that, 'stead of here, 
My lot were in that favoured sphere !— 
Where greatest fools bear off the bell 
I ought to do extremely well. 



THE 
BISHOP OF EUM-TI-FOO, AQ^AIN. 

I OFTEN wonder whether you 

Think sometimes of that Bishop, who 

From black but balmy Rum-ti-Foo 

Last summer twelvemonth came. 
Unto your mind 1 p'raps may bring 
Remembrance of the man I sing 
To-day, by simply mentioning 

That Peter was his name. 

Eemember how that holy man 
Came with the great Colonial clan 
To Synod called Pan-Anglican ; 

And kindly recollect 
How, having crossed the ocean wide, 
To please his flock all means he tried 
Consistent with a proper pride 

And manly seK-respect. 

He only, of the reverend pack 
Who minister to Christians black 
Brought any useful knowledge back 

To his Colonial fold. 
In consequence a place I claim 
For ' Peter" on the scroll of Fame 
(For Peter was that Bishop's name, 

As I 've already told). 



258 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 




He carried Art, he often said, 
To places where that timid maid 
(Save by Colonial Bishops' aid) 

Could never hope to roam. 
The Payne-cum-Lauri feat he taught 
As he had learnt it ; for he thought 
The choicest fruits of Progress ought 

To bless the Negro's home. 

And he had other work to do, 
For, while he tossed upon the blue, 
The islanders of Rum-ti-Foo 

Forgot their kindly friend. 
Their decent clothes they learnt to tear — 
They learnt to say, " I do not care," 
Though they, of course, were well aware 

How folks, who say so, end. 

Some sailors, whom he did not know, 

Had landed there not long ago. 

And taught them "Bother " also, "Blow!" 

(Of wickedness the germs.) 
No need to use a casuist's pen 
To prove that they were merchantmen ; 
No sailor of the Royal N. 

Would use such awful terms. 



BISHOP OF RUM-TI-FOO, AGAIN: 259 

And so, when Bishop Peter came 

(That was the kindly Bishop's name), 

He heard these dreadful oaths with shame, 

And chid their want of dress. 
(Except a shell — a bangle rare — 
A feather here — a feather there — ) 
The South Pacific negroes wear 

Their native nothingness. 

He taught them that a Bishop loathes 

To listen to disgraceful oaths, 

He gave them all his left-off clothes — 

They bent them to his will. 
The Bishop's gift spreads quickly round ; 
In Peter's left-off clothes they bound 
(His three-and-twenty suits they found 

In fair condition still). 




The Bishop's eyes with water fill, 
Quite overjoyed to find them still 
Obedient to his sovereign will. 

And said, " Good Rum-ti-Foo ! 
Half-way I '11 meet you, I declare : 



26o 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



I '11 dress myself in cowries rare, 
And fasten feathers in my hair, 

And dance the ' Cutch-chi-boo !"' * 

And to conciliate his see 

He married Piccadillillee, 

The yoiingest of his twenty-three, 

Tall — neither fat nor thin. 
(And though the dress he made her don 
Looks awkwardly a girl upon, 
It was a great improvement on 

The one he found her in.) 

The Bishop in his gay canoe 

(His wife, of course, went with him too) 

To some adjacent island flew, 

To spend his honeymoon. 
Some day in sunny Rum-ti-Foo 
A little Peter 11 be on view ; 
And that (if people tell me true) 

Is like to happen soon. 




Described by Mungo Park. 



THE HAUGHTY ACTOR. 




An actor — Gibbs, of Drury Lane — 

Of very decent station, 
Once happened in a part to gain 

Excessive approbation : 
It sometimes turns a fellow's brain 
And makes him singularly vain 
When he believes that he receives 

Tremendous approbation. 

His great success half drove him mad, 
But no one seemed to mind him ; 

Well, in another piece he had 
Another part assigned him. 

This part was smaller, by a bit, 

Than that in which he made a hit. 
So, much ill-used, he straight refused 
To play the part assigned him. 



TJiat night that actor slept, and I'll attempt 
To tell you of the vivid dream lie dreamt : 



362 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

' THE DREAM. 

In fighting with a robber band 

(A thing he loved sincerely) 
A sword struck Gibbs upon the hand 

And wounded it severely. 
At first he didn't heed it much, 
He thought it was a simple touch. 
But soon he found the weapon's bound 

Had wounded him severely. 

To Surgeon Cobb he made a trip, 

Who 'd just effected featly 
An amputation at the hip 

Particularly neatly. 
A rising man was Surgeon Cobb, 
But this extremely ticklish job 
He had achieved (as he believed) 

Particularly neatly. 

The actor rang the surgeon's bell, 

" Observe my wounded finger, 

Be good enough to strap it well. 

And prithee do not linger. 
That I, dear sir, may fill again 
The Theatre Royal Drury Lane: 
This very night I have to fight — 
So prithee do not linger." 

" I don't strap fingers up for doles," 

Replied the haughty surgeon ; 
*' To use your cant, I don't play roles 

* Utility ' that verge on. 
* First amputation' — nothing less — 
That is my line of business : 
We surgeon nobs despise all jobs 
Utility that verge on. 

"When in your hip there lurks di-*- 
ease " 
(So dreamt this lively dreamer) 
" Or devastating caries 

In humerus or femur. 
If you can pay a handsome lee. 
Oh, then you may remember me — 
With joy elate I '11 amputate 
You" humerus oi fenmr." 



THE HAUGHTY ACTOR. 



263 



The disconcerted actor ceased 
The haughty leech to pester, 
But when the wound in size increased 
And then began to fester, 
He sought a learned Counsel's lair, 
And told that Counsel, then and there> 
How Cobb's neglect of his defect 
Had made his finger fester. 



kiu 




" Oh, bring my action, if you please, 

The case I pray you urge on, 
And win me thumping damages 

From Cobb, that haughty surgeon. 
He culpably neglected me 

Although I proffered him his fee, 
So pray come down, in wig and gown, 

On Cobb, that haughty surgeon. " 



That Counsel learned in the laws, 

With passion almost trembled. 
He just had gained a mighty cause 

Before the Peers assembled ! 
Said he, " How dare you have the face 

To come with Common Jury case 
To one who wings rhetoric flings 

Before the Peers assembled ? " 



264 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Dispirited became our friend — 

Depressed his moral pecker — 
«' But stay ! a thouglit I I'll gain my end 

And save my poor exchequer. 
I won't be placed upon the shelf, 

I '11 take it into Court myself, 
And legal lore display before 

The Court of the Exchequer." 

He found a Baron— one of those 

Who with our laws supply us — 
In wig and silken gown and hose, 

As if at Nisi Prius. 
But he'd just given, off the reel, 

A famous judgment on Appeal : 
It scarce became his heightened fame 

To sit at Nisi Prius. 




Our friend began, with easy wit. 
That half concealed his terror. 
" Pooh ! " said the Judge, " I only sit 
In Banco or in Error. 
Can you suppose, my man, that I 'd 
O'er Nisi Prius Courts preside, 
Or condescend my time to spend 
On anything but Error ? 



THE HA UGHT Y A CTOR. 265 

" Too bad," said Gibbs, " my case to shirk ! 
You must be bad innately, 
To save your skill for migbty work 
Because it 's valued greatly ! " 
But here he woke, with sudden start. 



He wrote to say he 'd play the part. 
I Ve but to tell he played it well — 
The author's words — his native wit 
Combined, achieved a perfect " hit " — 
The papers praised him greatly. 




THE TWO MAJORS. 

An excellent soldier who 's worthy the name, 

Loves officers dashing and strict : 
When good, he 's content with escaping all blame, 

When naughty, he likes to be licked. 

He likes for a fault to be bullied and stormed, 

Or imprisoned for several days, 
And hates, for a duty correctly performed, 

To be slavered with sickening praise. 

No officer sickened with praisea his corps 

So little as Major La Guerre — 
No officer swore at his warriors more 

Than Major Makredi Prepere. 




ThE TWO MAJORS. 267 

They agreed at their mess — they agreed in the 
glass — 

They agreed in the choice of their " set," 
And they also agreed in adoring, alas! 

The Vivandiere, pretty Fillette. 

Agreement, you see, may be carried too far, 

And after agreeing all round 
For years — in this soldierly " maid of the bar" 

A bone of contention they found ! 

Their soldiers adored them, and every grade 
Delighted to hear their abuse ; 
Though whenever these officers came on 
parade. 
They shivered and shook in their 
shoes. 

For, oh ! if La Guerre could all praises 
withhold 
Why, so could Makredi Prepere, 
And, oh ! if Makredi could bluster and 
scold, 
Why, so could the mighty La 
Guerre. 



" No doubt we deserve it — no mercy we crave — 

Go on — you 're conferring a boon ; 
We would rather be slanged by a warrior brave, 

Than praised by a wretched poltroon ! " 

Makredi would say that in battle's fierce rage 

True happiness only was met : 
Poor Major Makredi, though fifty his age, 

Had never known happiness yet ! 

La Guerre would declare, "With the blood of a foe 

No tipple is worthy to clink." 
Poor fellow ! he hadn't, though sixty or so, 

Yet tasted his favourite drink ! 



268 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 




It may seem improper to call such a pet — 

By a metaphor, even — a bone ; 
But though they agreed in adoring her, yet 

Each wanted to make her his own. 

"On the day that you marry her," mutteretl 
Prepere 

(With a pistol he quietly played), 
" I '11 scatter the brains in your noddle, I swear, 

All over the stony parade !" 

*' I cannot do that to you," answered La Guerre j 

" AVhatever events may befall ; 
But this / can do — if '^ou wed her, mon cher! 

I '11 eat you, moustachios and all ! 

The rivals, although they would never engage. 
Yet quarrelled whenever they met ! 

They met in a fury and left in a rage, 
But neither took pretty Fillette. 

" I am not afraid," thought Makredi Prepere : 

" For country I 'm ready to fall ; 
Bnt nobody wants, for a mere Vivandiere, 

To be eaten, moustachios and all ! 



THE TWO MAJORS 269 

« Besides, though La Guerre has his faults, I '11 
allow 

He 's one of the bravest of men : 
My goodness ! If I disagree with him now, 

1 might disagree with him then." 

"No coward am I," said La Guerre, "as you 
guess — 

I sneer at an enemy's blade ; 
But I don't want Prepere to get into a mess 

For splashing the stony parade !" 

One day on parade to Prepere and La Guerre 

Came Corporal Jacotte Debette, 
And trembling all over, he prayed of them there 

To give him the pretty Fillette. 

" Yon see, I am willing to marry my bride 

Until you 've arranged this affair ; 
I will blow out my brains when your honours 
decide 

Which marries the sweet Vivandiere ! " 

" Well, take her," said both of them in a duet 

(A favourite form of reply), 
" But when I am ready to marry Fillette 

Remember you 've promised to die ! " 

He married her then ; from the flowery plains 

Of existence the roses they cull : 
He lived and he died with his wife ; and his brains 

Are reposing in peace in his skull. 



A WORM WILL TUEN. 

I LOVE a man who '11 smile and joke 
When with misfortune crowned ; 
Who 11 pun beneath a pauper's yoke, 
And as he breaks his daily toke, 
Conundrums gay propound. 

Just such a man was Bernard Jupp, 
He scoffed at Fortune's frown ; 
He gaily drained his bitter cup- 
Though Fortune often threw him up, 
It never cast him down. 

Though years their share of sorrow bring, 

We know that far above 
All other griefs, are griefs that spring 
From some misfortune happening 

To those we really love. 

E'en sorrow for another's woe 

Our Bernard failed to quell ; 

Though by this special form of blow 

No person ever suffered so, 
Or bore his grief so well. 

His father, wealthy and well clad, 
And owning house and park, 
Lost every halfpenny he had. 
And then became (extremely sad !) 
A popr attorney's clerk 



A WORM WILL TURN. 



271 




All sons it surely would appal, 

Except the passing meek, 
To see a father lose his all, 
And from an independence fall 

To one pound ten a week ! 

But Jupp shook off this sorrow's weight, 

And like a Christian son, 
Proved Poverty a happy fate — 
Proved Wealth to be a devil's bait. 

To lure poor sinners on. 

With other sorrows Bernard coped. 

For sorrows came in packs ; 
His cousins with their housemaids sloped- 
His uncles died — his aunts eloped — 
His sisters married blacks. 

But Bernard, far from murmuring, 

(Exemplar, friends, to us) 
Determined to his faith to cling, — 
He made the best of everything. 

And argil erl softly thus : 

" 'T were harsh my uncles' forging knack 

Too rudely to condemn — 
My aunts, repentant, may come back, 
And blacks are nothing like as black 

As people colour them." 



272 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 




Still Fate, with many a sorrow rife, 

Maintained relentless hj^ht : 
His grandmamma next losik her Vi%, 
Then died the mother of his wife. 
But still he seemed all right. 

His brother fond (the only link 

To life that bound him now) 
One morning, overcome by driiik, 
He broke his leg (the right, I thir !v ^ 
In some disgraceful row. 

But did my Bernard swear and cur.s^ * 

Oh, no — to murmur loth, 
He only said, " Go, get a nurse : 
Be thankful that it isn't worse ; 

You might have broken both." 

But worms who watch without conceir'. 

The cockchafer on thorns, 
Or beetles smashed, themselves will Xvcm, 
I^ walking through the slippery fern, 

You tread upon their coins. 



A WORM WILL TURN. 273 

And if when all the mischiers done 
You watch their dying squirms, 
And listen, ere their breath has run, 
You '11 hear them sigh " Oh, clumsy one !" 
— And devil blame the worms. 




One night, as Bernard made his track 
Through Brompton home to bed, 

A footpad, with a vizor black. 

Took watch and purse, and dealt a crack 
On Bernard's saint-like head. 

It was too much — his spirit rose, 

He looked extremely cross. 
Men thought him steeled to mortal foes, 
But no — he bowed to countless blows, 
But kicked against this loss. 

He finally made up his mind 

Upon his friends to call ; 
Subscription lists were largely signed, 
For men were really glad to find 

Him mortal, after all ! 



EMILY, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. 

A Derby Legend. 

Emily Jane was a nursery maid — 

James was a bold Life Guard, 
John was a constable, poorly paid, 
(And I am a doggerel bard). 

A very good girl was Emily Jane, 
Jimmy was good and true, 

John was a very good man in the 
main 
(And I am a good man too). 

/ Rivals for Emmie were Johnny and 

James, 
Though Emily liked them both ; 
She couldn't tell which had the 
strongest claims 
(And / couldn't take my oath). 

But sooner or later you're certain 
to find 
Your sentiments can't lie hid — 
Jane thought it was time that she 
made up her mind 
(And I think it was time she did). 




EMIL Y, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. 275 

Said Jane with a smirk, and a blush on her face, 

" I '11 promise to wed the boy 
Who takes me to-morrow to Epsom Race !" 

(Which I would have done, with joy). 

From Johnny escaped an expression of pain, 
But Jimmy said, " Done with you ! 

1 '11 take you with pleasure, my Emily Jane !" 
(And I would have said so too). 

John lay on the ground, and he roared like mad 

(For Johnny was sore perplexed), 
And he kicked very hard at a very small lad 

(Which I often do, when vexed). 

For John was on duty next day with the Force, 

To punish all Epsom crimes ; 
Young people will cross when they're clearing 
the course 

(I do it myself, sometimes). 



The Derby Day sun glittered gaily on cads, 

On maidens with gamboge hair. 
On sharpers and pickpockets, swindlers and pads — 

(For I, with my harp, was there). 

And Jimmy went down with his Jane that day, 

And John by the collar or nape 
Seized everybody who came in his way 

(And J had a narrow escape). 

He noticed his Emily Jane with Jim, 

And envied the well-made elf; 
And people remarked that he muttered "Oh, 
dim!" 

(I often say " dim!" myself). 

John dogged them all day, without asking their 
leaves ; 

For his sergeant he told, aside, 
That Jimmy and Jane were notorious thieves 

(And I think he was justified). 



276 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



And James wouldn't dream of abstracting a fork, 
And Jenny would blush with shame 

At stealing so much as a bottle or cork 
(A bottle I think fair game). 

But, ah ! there 's another more serious crime ! 

They wickedly strayed upon 
The course at a critical moment of time 

(I pointed them out to John). 

The crusher came down on the pair in a crack — 

And then, with a demon smile. 
Let Jenny cross over, but sent Jimmy back 

(I played on my harp the while). 




Stern Johnny their agony loud derides 

With a very triumphant sneer — 
They weep and they wail from the opposite sides 

(And / shed a silent tear). 

And Jenny is crying away like mad, 

And Jimmy is swearing hard ; 
And Johnny is looking uncommonly glad 

(And I am a doggerel bard). 

But Jimmy he ventured on crossing again 
The scenes of our Isthmian Games — 



EMIL V, JOHN, JAMES, AND I. 277 

John cauglit him, and collared him, giving him 
pain 
(I felt very much for James). 

John led him away with a victor's hand, 

And Jimmy was shortly seen 
In the station-house under the grand Grand Stand 

(As many a time Vve been). 




And Jimmy, bad boy, was imprisoned for life, 

Though Emily pleaded hard ; 
And Johnny had Emily Jane to wife 

(And I am a doggerel bard). 



THE PEEILS OF INYISIBILITT. 




Old Peter led a wretched life — 
Old Peter had a furious wife ; 
Old Peter too was truly stout, 
He measured several yards about. 

The little fairy Picklekin 
One summer afternoon looked in, 
And said, " Old Peter, how de do ? 
Can I do anything for you ? 

" I have three gifts — the first will give 
Unbounded riches while you live ; 
The second, health where'er you be ; 
The third, invisibility." 



THE TERILS OF INVISIBILITY. 279 

'* O little fairy Picklekin," 

Old Peter answwed with a grin, 
" To hesitate would be absurd, — 

Undoubtedly I choose the third." 

" 'T is yours," the fairy said ; " be quite 
Invisible to mortal sight 
Whene'er you please. Remember me 
Most kindly, pray, to Mrs. P." 

Old Mrs. Peter overheard 

Wee Picklekin's concluding word, 

And, jealous of her girlhood's choice. 

Said, " That was some young woman's voice ! " 

Old Peter let her scold and swear- - 
Old Peter, bless him, didn't care. 
" My dear, your rage is wasted quite- 
Observe, I disappear from sight !" 

A well-bred fairy (so I 've heard) 
Is always faithful to her Avord : 
Old Peter vanished like a shot, 
But then — liis suit of clothes did Twt^ 

For when conferred the fairy slim 
Invisibility on him, 
She popped away on fairy wings. 
Without referring to his " things." 

So there remained a coat of blue, 
A vest and double eyeglass too. 
His tail, his shoes, his socks as well, 
His pair of — no, I must not tell. 

Old Mrs. Peter soon began 
To see the failure of his plan. 
And then resolved (I quote the Bard) 
To " Hoist him with his own petard." 

Old Peter woke next day and dressed, 
Put on his coat and shoes and vest, 
His shirt and stock — hut could not find 
His only pair 0/— never mind ! 



280 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Old Peter was a decent man, 
And though he twigged his lady's plan, 
Yet, hearing her approaching, he 
Resumed invisibility. 

" Dear Mrs. P., my only joy," 
Exclaimed the horrified old boy, 

" Now give them up, I beg of you — 
You know what 1 'm referring to !" 




But no ; the cross old lady swore 
She 'd keep his — what 1 said before — 
To make him publicly absurd ; 
And Mrs. Peter kept her word. 

The poor old fellow had no rest ; 
His coat, his stock, his shoes, his vest, 
Were all that now met mortal eye — 
The rest, invisibility ! 

" Now, madam, give them up, I beg — 
I 've had rheumatics in my le^ ; 
Besides, until you do, it 's plain 
I cannot come to sight again ! 



THE PERILS OF INVISIBILITY. 2S1 

" For thougli some mirtli it might afford 
To see my clothes without their lord, 
Yet there would rise indignant oaths 
If he were seen without his clothes ! " 

But no ; resolved to have her quiz, 
The lady held her own — and his — 
And Peter left his humble cot 
To find a pair of — you know what. 

But — here 's the worst of this affair — 
Whene 'er he came across a pair 
Already placed for him to don, 
He was too stout to get them on! 




So he resolved at once to train, 
And walked and walked with all his main : 
For years he paced this mortal earth, 
To bring himself to decent girth. 

At night, when all around is still, 
You '11 find him pounding up a hill ; 
And shrieking peasants whom he meets, 
Fall down in terror on the peats ! 

Old Peter walks through wind and rain, 
Kesolved to train, and train, and train, 
Until he weighs twelve stone or so — 
And when he does, I '11 let you know. 



OLD PAUL AND OLD TIM. 

When rival adorers come courting a maid, 
There 's something or other may often be said, 
Why he should be pitched upon rather than him. 
This wasn't the case with Old Paul and Old Tim. 

No soul could discover a reason at all 
For marrying Timothy rather than Paul ; 
Though all could have offered good reasons, on 

oath. 
Against marrying either — or marrying both. 

They were equally wealthy and equally old, 
They were equally timid and equally bold ; 
They were equally tall as they stood in their shoes. 
Between them, in fact, there was nothing to choose. 

Had I been young Emily, I should have said, 
" You 're both of you old for a pretty young maid, 
Threescore at the least you are verging upon ; " 
But I wasn't young Emily. Let us go on. 

No coward's blood ran in young Emily's veins. 
Her martial old father loved bloody campaigns ; 
At the rumours of battles all over the globe 
He pricked up his ears like the war-horse in "Job." 

He chuckled to hear of a sudden surprise 
Of soldiers, compelled, through an enemy's spies, 
Without any knapsacks or shakas to flee, 
For an eminent army-contractor was he. 



OLD PA UL AND OLD TIAL 



283 




So when her two lovers, whose patience was tried, 
Implored her between them at once to decide. 
She told them she 'd marry whichever might bring 
Good proofs of his doing the pluckiest thing. 

They both went away with a qualified joy : 
That coward, Old Paul, chose a very small boy, 
And when no one was looking, in spite of his fears. 
He set to work boxing that little boy's ears. 

The little boy struggled and tugged at his hair. 
But the lion was roused, and Old Paul didn't care ; 
He smacked him and whacked him, and boxed 

him and kicked. 
Till the poor little beggar was royally licked. 

Old Tim knew a trick worth a dozen of that. 
So he called for his stick and he called for his hat. 
" I '11 cover myself with cheap glory — I '11 go 
A.nd woUop the Frenchmen who live in Soho ! 

' The German invader is ravaging France 
^ith infantry rifle and cavalry lance. 
And beautiful Paris is fighting her best 
To shake herseK free from her terrible guest. 



284 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



" The Frenchmen in London, in craven alarms, 
Have all run away from the summons to arms ; 
They haven't the pluck of a pigeon — I '11 go 
And wollop the Frenchmen who skulk in Soho ! * 

Old Timothy tried it and found it succeed : 
That day he caused many French noses to bleed ; 
Through foggy Soho he spread fear and dismay, 
And Frenchmen all round him in agony lay. 




He took care to abstain from employing his fist , 
On the old and the crippled, for they might resist ; 
An elderly one may have pluck in his breast, 
But the young and the strong ones are cowards 
confest. 

Old Tim and Old Paul, with the list of their foes, 
Prostrated themselves at their Emily's toes : 
" Oh, which of us two is the pluckier blade ? " 
And Emily answered and Emily said : 

" Old Tim has thrashed runaway Frenchmen in 

scores 
Who ought to be guarding their cities and shores ; 
Old Paul has made little chaps' noses to bleed- 
Old Paul has accomplished the pluckier deed 1 



THE CUNNING WOMAN. 

In all Arcadia's sunny plain, 

On all Arcadia's hill, 
None were so blithe as Bill and Jane, 

So blithe as Jane and Bill. 

No social earthquake e'er occurred 
To rack their common mind : 

To them a Panic was a word — 
A Crisis, empty wind. 

No Stock Exchange disturbed the lad 
With overwhelming shocks — 

Bill ploughed with all the shares he had, 
Jane planted all her stocks. 

And learn in what a simple way 
Their pleasures they enlianced — 

Jane danced like any lamb all day, 
Bill piped as well as danced. 

Surrounded by a twittling crew 

Of linnet, lark, and thrush, 
Bill treated his young lady to 

This sentimental gush : 



t>' 



" Oh, Jane, how true I am to you ! 
How true you are to me ! 
And how we woo, and how we coo! 
So fond a pair are we ! 

**To think, dear Jane, that anyways 
Your chiefest end and aim 
Is, one of these fine summer days. 
To bear my honoured name ! '' 

Quoth Jane, " Well, as you put the case, 
I 'm true enough, no doubt. 
But then, you see, in this here place 
There 's none to cut you out. 



286 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

" But, oh ! if anybody came, 
A lord or any siicli, 
I do not think your honoured name 
Would fascinate me much. 

" For though your pals, you often boast 
You distance out-and-out ; 
Still, in the abstract, you 're a most 
Uncompromising lout ! " 

Poor Bill he gave a heavy sigh, 
He tried in vain to speak — 

A fat tear started to each eye 
And coursed adown each cheek. 

For, oh ! right well in truth, he knew 

That very selfsame day 
The Lord de Jacob Pillaloo 

Was coming there to stay. 

The Lord de Jacob Pillaloo 
All proper maidens shun — 

He loves all womankind, it 's true, 
But never marries none. 

Now Jane, with all her mad self-will, 
Was no coquette — oh, no ! 

She really loved her painful Bill, 
And thus she tuned her woe : 

" Oh, willow, willow, o'er the lea ! 
And willow once again ! 
He's sure to fall in love with me' 
Why wasn't I made plain ? " 



A cunning woman lived hard by, 

A sorceressing dame, 
Mac Catacomb de Salmon-Eye 

Was her uncommon name ! 

To her good Jane, with kindly yea,rn 
For Bill's increasing pain. 

Repaired in secret for to learn 
How best to make her plain. 



THE CUNNING WOMAN. 



287 



**0h, Jane," the worthy woman said, 
" This mystic phial keep, 
And rub its liquor in your head 
Before you go to sleep. 

•' When you awake next day, I trow, 
You '11 look in form and hue 
To others just as you do now — 
But not to Pillaloo ! 

*' "When you approach him, you will find 
He '11 think you coarse — unkempt — 
And coarsely bid you get behind, 
With undisguised contempt." 

The Lord de Pillaloo arrived 

With his expensive train, 
And when in state serenely hived^ 

He sent for Bill and Jane. 




288 THE '' BAB'' BALLADS, 

"Oh, spare lier, Lord of Pillaloo! 
If ever wed you be, 
There 's anything I 'd rather do 
Than flirt with Lady P." 

Lord Pillaloo looked in her eye, 

He looked her through and through t 

The cunning woman^s prophecy 
Was clearly coming true. 

Lord Pillaloo, the Rustic's Bane 
(Bad person he, and proud), 

He laughed Ha ! ha ! at pretty Jane, 
And sneered at her aloud ! 

He bade her get behind him then, 
And seek her mother's stye — 

Yet to her native countrymen 
She was as fair as aye ! 

Mac Catacomb, continue green ! 

Grow, Salmon-Eye, in might \ 
Except for you, there might have been 

The deuce's own delight ! 




PHRENOLOGY. 

"♦JOME, collar this bad man — 

Around the throat he knotted me 
Till 



I to choke began — 



In point of fact, garotted me ! " 




Bo spake Sir Herbert White 

To James, Policeman Thirty-two — 

All ruffled with his fight 

Sir Herbert was, and dirty too. 

Policeman nothing said 

(Though he had much to say on it) 
But from the bad man's head 

He took the cap that lay on it. 



ago THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

**No, great Sir Herbert White^ 
Impossible to take him up. 
This man is honest quite — 

Wherever did you rake him up f 

** For Burglars, Thieves, and Co., 
Indeed I 'm no apologist, 
But I, some years agOj 
Assisted a Phrenologist. 

** Observe his various bumps, 
His head as I uncover it ; 
His morals lie in lumps 
All round about and over it." 

"Now take him," said Sir White, 
" Or you will soon be rueing it ; 
Bless me ! I must be right, — 
I caught the fellow doing it ! " 

Policeman calmly smiled, 
" Indeed you are mistaken, sir, 
You 're agitated — riled — 
And very badly shaken, sir. 




"Sit down, and I'll explain 
My system of Phrenology, 
A second, please, remain " — 
(A second is horology). 

Policeman left his beat — 
(The Bart., no longer furious, 



FHRENOLOa Y. 29J 

Sat down upon a seat, 

Observing, "This is curious l'^ 

" Oh, surely, here are signs 

Should soften your rigidity, 
This gentleman combines 
Politeness with timidity. 

" Of Shyness here 's a lump— 
A hole for Animosity — 
And like my list his bump 
Of Impecuniosity. 

** Just here the bump appears 
Of Innocent Hilarity, 
And just behind his ears 
Are Faith, and Hope, and Charity. 

** He of true Christian ways 

As bright example sent us is — 
This maxim he obeys, 
^^orte tud coiitentus sis* 

** There, let him go his ways, 

He needs no stern admonishing." 
The Bart., in blank amaze. 
Exclaimed, " This is astonishing ! 

** I must have made a mull, 

This matter I 've been iDlind in it : 
Examine, please, my skull, 
And tell me what you find in it.'' 

That Crusher looked, and said 
With unimpaired urbanity, 
" Sir Herbert, you 've a head 
That teems with inhumanity. 

** Here 's Murder, Envy, Strife 
(Propensity to kill any), 
And Lies as large as life, 
And heaps of Social Villany. 



292 



THE "BAB** BALLADS. 



'* Here 's Love of Bran New Clothes, 
Embezzling — Arson— Deism — 
A taste for Slang and Oaths, 
And Fraudulent Trusteeism. 

** Here 's Love of Groundless Charge-— 
Here 's Malice, too, and Trickery, 

Unusually large 
Your bump of Pocket- Pickery — ^ 




**Stop!" said the Bart,, "my cup 

Is full — I 'm worse than him in oil 5 
Policeman, take me up — 

No doubt I am some criminal !" 

That Pleeceman's scorn grew large 
(Phrenology had nettled it). 

He took that Bart, in charge — 
I don't know how they settled it- 



THE MYSTIC SALVAGEE. 




Perhaps already you may know 
Sir Blennerhasset Portico? 
A Captain in the Navy, he — 
A Baronet and K.C.B. 

You do ? I thought so! 
It was that captain's favourite whim 
(A notion not confined to him) 
That Rodney was the greatest tar 
Who ever wielded capstan-bar. 

He had been taught so. 

** Benbow ! Cornwallis ! Hood ! — Belay ! 

Compared with Rodney" — he would say — 
*' No other tar is worth a rap! 

The great Lord Rodney was the chap 

The French to polish ! 

Though, mind you, I respect Lord Hood ; 

Cornwallis, too, was rather good ; 

Benbow could enemies repel. 

Lord Nelson, too, was pretty well — 

Thatis, tol-lol-ish!" 

Bir Blennerhasset spent his days 
In learning Rodney's little ways, 
And closely imitated, too. 
His mode of talking to his crew — 

His port and paces. 



294 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

An ancient tar he tried to catcli 
Who 'd served in Rodney's famous batch 
But since his time long years have fled, 
And Rodney's tars are mostly dead : 
Eheu fugaces I 

But after searching near and far, 
At last he found an ancient tar 
Who served with Rodney and his crew 
Against the French in 'Eighty-two, 

(That gained the peerage). 
He gave him fifty pounds a year. 
His rum, his baccy, and his beer ; 
And had a comfortable den 
Rigged up in what, by merchantmen, 

Is called the steerage. 




" Now, Jasper" — 't was that sailor's name — 
" Don't fear that you '11 incur my blame 

By saying, when it seems to you, 

That there is anything I do 

That Rodney wouldn't.* 

The ancient sailor turned his quid, 

Prepared to do as he was bid : 
"Ay, ay, yer honour; to begin. 

You 've done away with ' swifting in ' — 

Well, sir,^ou shouldn't ! 



THE M YS TIC SAL VA GEE, 295 

" Upon your spars I see you 've clapped 
Peak halliard blocks, all iron-capped. 
I would not christen that a crime, 
But 't was not done in Rodney's time. 

It looks half-witted ! 
Upon your maintop-stay, I see, 
You always clap a salvagee ! 
Your stays, 1 see, are equalized — 
No vessel, such as Rodney prized. 

Would" thus be fitted! 

" And Rodney, honoured sir, would grin 
To see you turning deadeyes in, 
Not wp^ as in the ancient way, 
But downwards, like a cutter's stay — 

You didn't oughter ; 
Besides, in seizing shrouds on board. 
Breast backstays you have quite ignored; 
Great Rodney kept unto the last 
Breast backstays on topgallant mast — 

They make it tauter." 

Sir Blennerhasset " swifted in," 
Turned deadeyes up, and lent a fin 
To strip (as told by Jasper Knox) 
The iron capping from his blocks, 

Where there was any. 
Sir Blennerhasset does away 
With salvagees from maintop-stay ; 
And though it makes his sailors stare, 
He rigs breast backstays everywhere- 

In fact, too many. 

One morning, when the saucy craft 

Lay calmed, old Jasper toddled aft. 
" My mind misgives me, sir, that we 

Were wrong about that salvagee — 

I should restore it." 
" Good," said the captain, and that day 

Restored it to the maintop-stay. 

Well-practised sailors often make 

A much more serious mistake. 

And then ignore it. 



296 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 

Next day old Jasper came once more : 
" I think, sir, I was right before." 

Well, up the mast the sailors skipped, 

The salvagee was soon unshipped, 

And all were merry. 

Again a day, and Jasper came : 
" I p'r'aps deserve your honour's blame, 

I can't make up my mind," said he, 
" About that cursed salvagee — 

It's foolish — very. 

" On Monday night I could have sworn 
That maintop-stay it should adorn, 
On Tuesday morning I could swear 
That salvagee should not be there. 

The knot's a rasper!" 

" Oh, you be hanged," said Captain P., 

" Here, go ashore at Caribbee. 
Get out — good bye — shove off — all right!" 
Old Jasper soon was out of sight — 

Farewell, old Jasper! 




THE FAIEY CUEATB. 




Once a fairy 

Light and airy 
Married with a mortal; 

Men, however 

Never, never 
Pass the fairy portal. 

Slyly stealing, 

She to Ealing 
Made a daily journey ; 

There she found him 

Clients round him 
(He was an attorney). 

Long they tarried, 

Then they married. 
When the ceremony 

Once was ended, 

Off they wended 
On their moon of honey. 

Twelvemonth, maybe, 

Saw a baby 
(Friends performed an orgie). 

Much they prized him, 

And baptized him 
By the name of Georgia. 

Georgie grew up ; 

Then he flew up 
To his fairy mother. 

Happy meeting — 

Pleasant greeting — 
Kissing one another. 
" Choose a calling 



298 THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 

Most enthralling, 
I sincerely urge ye." 
"Mother," said he 

(Rev'rence made he), 
" I would join the clergy. 

" Give permission 

In addition — 
Pa will let me do it : 

He 's a-living 

In his giving. 
He '11 appoint me to it. 

Dreams of coff' ring 

Easter off' ring, 
Tithe and rent and pew-ratCj 

So inflame me 

(Do not blame me). 
That I '11 be a curate." 

She, with pleasure. 

Said, " My treasure, 
T is my wish precisely. 

Do your duty, 

There's a beauty; 
You have chosen wisely. 

Tell your father 

I would rather 
As a churchman rank you. 

You, in clover, 

I '11 watch over." 
Georgie said, "Oh, thank you!" 

Georgie scudded. 

Went and studied. 
Made all preparations, 

And with credit 

(Though he said it) 
Passed examinations. 

(Do not quarrel 

With him, moral, 
Scrupulous digestions — 

'T was his mother. 

And no other, 
Answered all his questions.) 



THE FAIR V CUR A TE. 299 

Time proceeded ; 

Little needed 
Georgie admonition: 

He, elated, 

Vindicated 
Clergyman's position. 

People round him 

Always found him 
Plain and unpretending ; 

Kindly teachings 

Plainly preaching — 
All his money lending. 

So the fairy, 

Wise and wary, 
Felt no sorrow rising- 
No occasion 

For persuasion, 
Warning, or advising. 

He, resuming 

Fairy pluming 
(That 's not English, is it ?) 

Oft would fly up, 

To the sky up, 
Pay mamma a visit. 

Time progressing, 

Georgie's blessing 
Grew more ritualistic — 

Popish scandals, 

Tonsures — sandals- 
Genuflections mystic ; 

Gushing meetings — 

Bosom-beatings — 
Heavenly ecstatics — 

Broidered spencers — 

Copes and censers — ■ 
Rochets and dalmatics. 

This quandary 

Vexed the fairy — 
Flew she down to Ealing. 
" GJeorgie, stop it ! 



?oo 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS, 



Pray you, drop it ; 
Hark to my appealing : 

To this foolish 

Papal rule-ish 
Twaddle put an ending ; 

This a swerve is 

From our Service 
Plain and unpretending." 

He, replying, 

Answered, sighing, 
Hawing, hemming, humming, 
" It 's a pity — 

They 're so pritty ; 
Yet in mode becoming, 

Mother tender, 

I '11 surrender — 
1 11 be unaffected— " 

Then his Bishop 

Into Ms shop 
Entered unexpected I 




J 



THE FAIR Y CUR A TE. 301 

" Who is this, sir, — 

Ballet miss, sir ?" 
Said the Bishop coldly. 
" 'T is my mother, 

And no other,"' 
Georgie answered boldly, 
** Go along, sir ! 

You are wrong, sir ; 
You have years in plenty, 

While this hussy 

(Gracious mussy ! ) 
f an't two-and-twenty ! ' 

(Fairies clever 

Never, never 
Grow in visage older ; 

And the fairy. 

All unwary, 
Leant upon his shoulder !) 

Bishop grieved him, 

Disbelieved him ; 
^orge the point grew warm on; 

Changed religion 

Like a pigeon, 
And became a Mormon ! 



HONGREE AND MAHRY, 

{A Transpontine Romatice.) 




The sun was setting in its wonted west, 
When Hongree, Sub-Liieutenant of Chassoores. 
Met Mahry Daubigny, the Village Rose, 
Under the Wizard's Oak — old trysting-place 
Of those who loved in rosy A(^uitaine. 



HONGREE AND MAHRY. 303 

They thought themselves imwatched, but they 
j were not ; 

For Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, 
Found in Lieutenant-Colonel Jooles Dubosc 
A rival, envious and unscrupulous, 
Who thought it not foul scorn to dodge his steps. 
And listen, unperceived, to all that passed 
Between the simple little Village Rose 

And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chas* 
soores. 

A clumsy barrack-bully was Dubosc, 
Quite unfamiliar with the well-bred, tact 
That animates a proper gentleman 
In dealing with a girl of humble rank. 
You'll understand his coarseness when I 

say 
He would have married Mahry Daubigny, 
And dragged the unsophisticated girl 
Into the whirl of fashionable life, 
For which her singularly rustic ways. 
Her breeding (moral, but extremely rude), 
Her language (chaste, but ungrammatical) 
Would absolutely have unfitted her. 
How different to this unreflecting boor 
Was Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chas- 
soores ! 

Contemporary with the incident 
Related in our opening paragraph, 
Was that sad war 'twixt Gallia and our* 
selves 
That followed on the treaty signed at Troyes ; 
And so Lieutenant-Colonel Jules Dubosc 
(Brave soldier, he, with all his faults of style) 
And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, 
Were sent by Charles of France against the lines 
Of our Sixth Henry (Fourteen twenty-nine). 
To drive his legions out of Aquitaine. 
Wlien Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoorep 
Returned, suspecting nothing, to his camp, 
After his meeting with the Village Rose, 
He found inside his barrack letter-box 
A note from the commanding officer, 
Requiring his attendance at head-quarters. 



304 



THE *'BAB'* BALLADS, 




^ai 



He went, and found Lieutenant-Colonel Jooles. 
"Young Hongree, Siib-Lieutenant of Chassoores, 
This night we shall attack the English camp : 
Be the ' forlorn hope ' yours — you '11 lead it, sir, 
And lead it too with credit, I 've no doubt " 
(These last words with a cruelly obvious sneer). 
" As every man must certainly be killed 
(For you are twenty 'gainst two thousand men), 
It is not likely that you will return. 
But what of that ? you '11 have the benefit 
Of knowing that you die a soldier's death." 

Obedience was young Hongree's strongest 
But he imagined that he only owed [point, 
Allegiance to his Mahry and his King. 
*' If Mahry bade me lead these fated men, 
I 'd lead them — but I do not think she would. 

If Charles, my King, said, 'Go, my son, and die,' 
I 'd go, of course — my duty would be clear. 
But Mahry is in bed asleep, 1 hope. 
And Charles, my King, three hundred league 
from this. 



HONG REE AND MAHRY, 305 

As for Lieutenant- Colonel Jules Dubosc, 
How know I that our monarch would approve 
The order he has given me to-night ? 
My King I Ve sworn in all things to obey— 
I '11 only take my orders from my King ! " 
Thus Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, 
Interpreted the terms of his commission. 

And Hongree, who was wise as he was good, 
Disguised himself that night in ample cloak, 
Round flapping hat, and vizor mask of black, 
And made, unnoticed, for the English camp. 
He passed the unsuspecting sentinels 
(Who little thought a man in this disguise 
Could be a proper object of suspicion), 
And ere the curfew bell had boomed " lights out,' 
He found in audience Bedford's haughty Duke. 




"Your Grace," he said, "start not— be not alarmed 
Although a Frenchman stands before your eyes. 
I 'm Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. 
My colonel will attack your camp to-night, 
And orders me to lead the hope forlorn. 
Now I am sure our excellent King Charles 
Would not approve of this ; but he 's away 
A hundred leagues, and rather more than that. 



3o6 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



So, utterly devoted to my King, 

Blinded by my attachment to the throne, 

And having but its interest at heart, 

I feel it is my duty to disclose 

All schemes that emanate from Colonel Jooles, 

If I believe that they are not the kind 

Of schemes that our good monarch could approve." 

"But how," said Bedford's Duke, "do you propose 

That we should overthrow your colonel's scheme ?" 

And Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, 

Replied at once with never-failing tact : 

** Oh, sir, I know this cursed country well. 

Entrust yourself and all your host to me ; 

I '11 lead you safely by a secret path 

Into the heart of Colonel Jooles' array. 

And you can then attack them unprepared, 

And slay my fellow-countrymen unarmed." 

The thing was done. The Duke of Bedford gave 

The order, and two thousand fighting-men 

Crept silently into the Gallic camp. 

And slew the Frenchmen as they lay asleep ; 

And Bedford's haughty Duke slew Colonel Jooles, 

And married Mahry, pride of Aquitaine, 

To Hongree, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. 




THE WAY OF WOOINa. 

A MAIDEN sat at her window wide, 
Pretty enough for a prince's bride, 

Yet nobody came to claim her. 
She sat like a beautiful picture there 
With pretty bluebells and roses fair 

And jasmine leaves to frame her 




And why she sat there nobody knows ; 
But thus she sang as she plucked a rose, 

The leaves around her strewing : 
" I 've time to lose and power to choose ; 
'T is not so much the gallant who woos 

But the gallant's way of wooing ! " 



A lover came riding by awhile, 

A wealthy lover was he, whose smile 



3o8 



THE ''BAB'' BALLADS. 



Some maids would value greatly — 

A formal lover, who bowed and bent, 

With many a high-flown compliment. 

And cold demeanour stately. 

** You Ve still," said she to her suitor stern, 

** The 'prentice- work of your craft to leam. 



^jr. V, 




If thus you come a-cooing. 
I 've time to lose and power to choose ; 
T is not so much the gallant who woes 

As the gallant's way of wooing !" 



A second lover came ambling by — 
A timid lad with a frightened eye, 

And a colour mantling highly. 
He muttered the errand on which he 'd come, 
Then only chuckled and bit his thumb, 

And simpered, simpered shyly. 
" No," said the maiden, " go your way, 
You dare but think what a man would say, 



THE WA r 01^ W0011\ in. 



^^ 



Yet dare to come a-sueing! 
I've time to lose and power to choose ; 
'T is not so much the gallant who woes 

As the gallant's way of wooing 1" 




A third rode up at a startling pace — 
A suitor poor, with a homely face — 

No doubts appeared to bind him. 
He kissed her lips and he pressed her waist, 
And off he rode with the maiden, placed 

On a pillion safe behind him. 
And she heard the suitor bold confide 
This golden hint to the priest who tied 

The knot there 's no undoing : 
• With pretty young maidens wlio can choose. 
'T is not so much the gallant who woos 

As the gallant's way of wooing!" 




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